Winter warning: honeyed shovels scattered on the ground
Stream of crows, from horizon to horizon, night roost
In the silence between words is the yawning gap of my loneliness and beyond this seemingly endless abyss the nation-state borderline rages like singed leafy edges holding on hard to what use to be
If you hear my name after an evening autumn rain, it's because i am cedarwood incense and frog sounds.
Coolness of this morning's carpet, a moth flutters by the front door.
We left for camp in the afternoon, just in time for the rain to come down. Upon arrival we were greeted by two jays cawing and showing off as we set up our tent. The rain mellowed for the time being, but it would return later in a fury. The campfire made it through the [...]
Labor Day weekend — waving goodbye geese fly overhead our vacation is over, waving goodbye geese fly overhead