Monthly Archives: August 2017

´╗┐The bargaining phase

It was the last of the 8 o’clock sunsets the meteorologist said, so enjoy it. The last until April 16. We went to Chris and Kelly’s for dinner, to spend the night, but couldn’t stay up as late as we … Continue reading

Posted in identity, parenting, travel, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 23 Comments

The last of the 8 o’clock sunsets

The clouds are dragon tongues, painted Nordic boats and they blow me back to Scotland, to the fall, to shrill winds and leafless trees, to the comfort of wool and soup, smoked fish, and sleep. Now the shrubs are shriveled, … Continue reading

Posted in poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

Portrait of a spider trapped in my sink

I’m not afraid of you spider though you are ugly, you look different than me I know the care you take to build your webs with the lace from your body you lay traps to feed yourself (as a writer, … Continue reading

Posted in poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 20 Comments

Song for mid-summer fires

In the morning the street lamps are still on past 6 with their long, dinosaur necks and pink/peach, lit-up heads. I set my alarm for 3 AM but got up before it went off, sailed past Tacoma and Olympia around … Continue reading

Posted in prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 23 Comments

Six days in the bush, Pacific Northwest style

    I came to the bridge above the river, the one described in the guidebook. I’d taken a picture of it last time but it was only a green braid in the gray canyon rock, reduced down to that. … Continue reading

Posted in hiking, Memoir, travel | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 28 Comments

Bikes, trailers, dogs, coolers: five days in Montana (some Wyoming)

Just like me, the moon’s gone plump from too many long nights and early mornings, hard to get into its jeans, and only noticed by fools and dreamers, the mad. The sky ran down from blue to pink to jack … Continue reading

Posted in prose, travel | Tagged , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

First light for August

The plane resembled a bird in the sky, reflecting back in the lake. There were a few on the dock fishing, spread out to give each other space. They were all having their moments with the lake, the morning light. … Continue reading

Posted in prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 20 Comments