Category Archives: identity

Song from a shell

Posted on September 18, 2018 by

In the icy depths of sleep, in dreams, you held me when I was no one, just myself, a shell You held me at the edges where I could have been anyone, but wasn’t— and in sleep, in dreams, is … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, poetry | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments

The flavor is in the blood

Posted on September 16, 2018 by

Any cook will tell you, when you brown meat and rest it on the plate, blood will accumulate there and you always use that blood, or whatever juice comes out, when you put it in the pot. I sat in … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 43 Comments

My name is Bill

Posted on September 6, 2018 by

I tried to step outside of my name, to look at it objectively. It was a plain name, handed down from my dad—and to him, from his father. It was like all the other things that get handed down, the … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, prose | Tagged , , , , , , , | 18 Comments

Gone are the 8 o’clock sunsets

Posted on August 29, 2018 by

How much was left undone by summer’s end, in the corner of our back yard by the maple tree. The work was coming in again, with everyone coming back from vacations and wanting their things fast-tracked, rush jobs. Learning all … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 18 Comments

Song for late summer’s sorrow

Posted on August 25, 2018 by

When the sun came out it hardly mattered with the wildfire smoke and clouds and cloying mood that comes from late summer days you’ve seen enough of: No, the sun was going under, swallowed and swollen, buried by messy, careless … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, poetry | Tagged , , , , | 6 Comments

Dream of forgetfulness in the wake of night

Posted on August 11, 2018 by

In the papery pre-light of dawn my wings like a honey bee’s begin to break down my body a weight I can’t let go, these words are the weights when they hang here, unsaid.

Posted in identity, poetry, writing | Tagged , , , | 6 Comments

It is the right light to be critical

Posted on August 7, 2018 by

On Tuesday the moon was still up when I walked to the lake in the morning. I was in the slot, now. Like being at the airport on one of those skywalks when you know you’re about to go time … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, Memoir, travel, writing | Tagged , , , , , | 15 Comments