It is a day of grey skiesand orange trees, strangebirds passing through.Is this my life? Ten years of mountainweather and the leathercord broke and the bellfell from the gate, copper bell and blue glassbeads scattered on stone.This pain, what is pain?It is just this October moment, thiswarbler with its tail upin the air, looking for… Continue reading

I sleep beneath a shaved, clouded moon. My dreams are crowded & evasive. I try to catch them but they pass me by like geese, invisible in morning fog. All the news forecasts disaster. My book is filled with blankness. I forget to wind the clock. The geese call again. Ducks reply acrossthe darkly misted… Continue reading

There is something about the way autumnlight enters this room through the yellow leaves of the birch. Low and soft, it padsthrough this house; this house with its masks and its china, its paintings of horses and skies. It touchesmy face in the morning. I know it is not you that I miss, but loving… Continue reading

This anniversary of my brother’s death brings snow to the mountains, rain to the valleys. Still half-sleeping, I stand at the window and see golden birds flying — maple leaves. I am told it is possible to write one’s genome in one long line of code, in a leather-bound book, and a century from today… Continue reading

bird cries lift me from the shallow surface of sleep while i slept flood walls broke southern cities drowned these northern hills bleached tan the maples turn birches rustle storms swirl lifting the sea south and north autumn comes north and south the darkening Continue reading