Tag: Author

Destinations

Work From rain and melted snow To find a way to the creek. To a stream, in a hurried dash to the ocean   And here I stand, with bits of waterfalls trapped, inside buckets. My shoes.   Soggy, wicking socks Make close friends…

Cruel River

This river runs cruel… This river runs cold. I know she’s lost in this wilderness, where the lakes are silent, dampened by snow. Here, she walks on the edge of everything.   This river will meet the sea, that’s where all lies cease, for…

Wet Hands

If your hands come away wet Then you know you drink With passion   Click on image to enlarge. Lost Lake, Oregon.          

Love Letters

She’s a tangent, planting words in wild rows that release constant seeds, adrift, landing upon her skin, a skin she reads to herself. Her heartbreak, an apocalypse of reincarnations, dust on the floor, dry paper, bits, clumps, wheat lost from the chaff, molded to…

Footprints

These cold hills stand unconcerned of what walks beneath them. Snow, that made it through the day’s rain, will be covered by night’s newest layer of white. But here today, the rain collects upon the trail. Footprints lie scattered. There are recent ones, still…

Naming Creeks

The creek isn’t cruel by not knowing my name. Even though, I have known its name all my life. On walks, I still follow its voice, soothed by its flow. I won’t ask it to know me. I’m okay with being an eternal stranger…

Come at a Price

The amount of alcohol in her drink. The loudness of her laugh. Soft shirt sleeves, brushing raw, coded skin. Tender angst made her… Makes her Voice rise Like dinnertime restaurant dishes. All she said, forgotten. All she would have said, remembered.      

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