William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose.
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Recent Posts
- How the house felt after the kids left for summer camp July 3, 2019
- Hero’s pose June 23, 2019
- The long descent through the quarry June 21, 2019
- Fifty-fifty clown June 15, 2019
- Broken clouds June 5, 2019
People’s Poet
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Lost in the clouds
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Category Archives: death
The first death
The dog’s warm tongue on my cheek, the den by the window where the sun comes in to expose the hair on my carpet, the dust on the lamps, the dirt on my legs from the morning’s hike. Going up … Continue reading
Posted in death, Memoir, parenting, prose, writing
Tagged creative nonfiction, death, essay, identity, midlife crisis, spirituality, William Pearse writer
19 Comments
Down, down
Down went the day, followed by the sun, the night, the moon which rose just a hair of itself, the kids, then us: the weights on the clock: everything goes down. They talk about the ascension, about what happens “after,” … Continue reading
Posted in death, poetry, prose, writing
Tagged existentialism, life, mid-life crisis, pacific northwest, prose, short form, William Pearse writer
12 Comments
This time on earth
Where does it go, when the hair recedes—and why does it leave? And will I go like that too, without any notice but more a long, slow fade like snow thawing in a field— And are we just that then, … Continue reading
‘My mind is in garlands’
Our inability to get our kids to do stuff manifest itself most in their rooms. This week, after years of trying, I gave up. There are wet towels, empty bags of chips, old glasses of juice, clothes everywhere they should … Continue reading
Posted in death, Memoir
Tagged astrology, autumn poetry, Harry Potter, journal writing, memoir writing, pacific northwest, prose, Richard Youngs, Scotch, short form, William Pearse writer
15 Comments
‘Wax and wane’
By the time we got to the end of October I was done with it. The Halloween decals on the windows, the witches and skulls…it seemed to go on forever, like it should have been over by now. The skeleton … Continue reading
Posted in death, writing
Tagged aging, Cocteau Twins, death, Halloween, journal writing, Memoir, mid-life crisis, prose, Scotland, sentiment, short form, stream-of-consciousness, William Pearse writer
14 Comments
Song to the dark lands
When I look through the trees at the park near our house they are all pretty much the same as when we started coming here—like me, a bit older but still the same, mostly unnoticed. And the kids were so … Continue reading
Posted in death, prose, writing
Tagged autum, autumn poetry, equinox, journal writing, Memoir, mid-life crisis, nature poetry, poetry, short form, short prose, William Pearse writer
19 Comments
The soul dies first
At the end of it, the wick is either cut too short or it’s so long, it falls on its side and can’t stand up, won’t light. And so much wax left, in the shape of what remains. This body … Continue reading
Posted in death, prose
Tagged Autumn, autumn poetry, death, existentialism, meaning of existence, mid-life crisis, prose, William Pearse writer
15 Comments
