Author Archives: pinklightsabre

About pinklightsabre

William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.

October 21, 2018 (Sunday) Muted mornings of fog, leaving for work in the 6 o’clock hour and not getting home until 5, wondering if it’s going to pay off, this new job. Dawn saw the bob cat again by the … Continue reading

Posted in prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

To bait the fruit flies, all we need is apple cider vinegar mixed with Dawn dish soap poured in the bottom of a glass, fitted with a paper funnel, wrapped with tape. The fruit flies appear at the edge of … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir, prose | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

October 14, 2018 (Sunday) Sadly, I let myself get too annoyed often and it cut into my enjoyment of life. We rode in the Pilot to the pumpkin patch, all six of us, and I reminded Loren and Lily to … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 27 Comments

The smell of freshly cut grass in mid-October, summer’s scent, a lover’s fragrance. The clouds more like spring than fall, texture of sheep’s wool. The grass is wet and the cat walks upon it daintily. I spilled half my beer … Continue reading

Posted in prose | Tagged , , , , | 8 Comments

In the last 24 hours, my blog has been targeted by a bot following attack. At first it seemed like a good thing, all these new followers. They come in batches of five or so every hour, about 200 in … Continue reading

Posted in humor, musings | Tagged , , , , , | 29 Comments

Song for the undoing

How the days went by like the poets said they would, like wild horses over the hills or worse: indistinct and unnoticed, unremarkable, not lived. Let the days be seen for their own worth, wild as horses, mysterious as the … Continue reading

Posted in poetry, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 10 Comments

October 7, 2018 (Sunday) In the den with the fruit flies on the couch I lay listening to the tic of the clock, the dog shifting, the sound of a jet outside, and nothing else worth noting. We are each … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , | 14 Comments