Native Grasses That Flower in the Autumn

November 4, 2014 / Rags / Photography

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àite còmhnaidh (Dwelling Place)

July 20, 2011 / Rags / Poetry

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I am from paper, ink, words, images and spidery handwriting, from Canon, Nideggen, burnt sienna and red ochre, coptic and codex. I am from lands of green, with dark, worked soil, from the adoration of constellations and the heavy scent of woodsmoke in the autumn air. I am from the eagle tree and coyote fire-song, […]

identity, poems, poetry, Scotland

Freumhaich (Rooted)

July 19, 2011 / Angus / Poetry

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I am from travel trailers and Cadillacs, from Pepsi and grass-fed beef. I am from rooms filled with smoke, scotch and melancholy, from woods filled with lichen and hope. I am from Ponderosa parks, the Aurora Borealis. I am from bawdy jokes and black hair, from McKay, and Beller and Edward. I am from the […]

Idaho, introspection, poetry, roots, Scotland

On Coyote Paws

July 19, 2011 / Angus / Poetry, Wasp Paper

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Thunder rumbles heaven and Earth, rousting coyote from suburban slumber. Squirrel follows in tracks still warm, dodging cars, unaware of who moves a scant few heartbeats ahead.

Coyote, coyotes, poems, poetry

Wilderness

July 17, 2011 / Angus / Poetry, Wasp Paper

1

Wilderness. A concept, more than a reality so named because it is to be preserved and protected from the ravages of human society, now sports parking lots, crowded with humans desperate to spend time in the wilderness.

poems, poetry, wilderness

Tiny Dancer

July 13, 2011 / Angus / Wasp Paper

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Heat lifts moth and mosquito above the frenetic crossroads; swallow dances between the roaring cars, thankful for the feast.

poetry, swallows

Quenching Skies

July 10, 2011 / Angus / Poetry, Wasp Paper

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Sky, complex to the eye and palette, grows dark and angry (in our minds), yet threatens only to give the earth a drink.

poetry

House of Earth and Stems

July 6, 2011 / Rags / Art, Poetry, Wasp Paper

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pale feathered lace blossoms blooming mats of buffalo grass roots so strong as to build houses on the plains grim faced women with grass grown roofs and walls imagine the sweet earth smell of it like the bed of a burrowing owl all roots down and flowers up

photography, poems, poetry

The grace of rain

July 5, 2011 / Angus / Poetry, Wasp Paper

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The cool mist of this evening’s cusp, shrugs against the blazing heat of yesterday. My body bows in gratitude for each new drop.

photography, poetry

The Lure of the Deep Forest

July 4, 2011 / Rags / Poetry

2

Her dark fingers reach through deep dreams and throw spiderling threads around our hearts – citybound far too long. The silk draws us close to Her green forested body. We desire the air that smells primal, like black earth – like rushing snowmelt – and banks chilled silver in evening’s last light. I dream again […]

forest, poetry