Let us be near the water and not want for anything else In the morning when the sun lights the tops of the tall trees and they burn like a candle to the bottom Let us be near the water… Read More ›
poetry
Old to begin
How is it I have grown old, old in the best of ways they call “aged” and priced and valued as such, and hard to find. How is it I have grown old and at the same time renewed, this… Read More ›
When the amber alert woke us at 3:43
We thought it was nuclear war and wished we’d bought more water and planned for this but instead it was just the life of some kid we didn’t know, not our own And we went back to bed with the… Read More ›
The weight of all we felt
This day could be drawn in pencil it’s so drab. The roads are wet with rain and the leaves are down, the birch with their spindly arms and dragon eyes, a tangle of dead leaves, a lone bird…this feeling of… Read More ›
On the 5-7-5
Morning’s solemn moon sliver of your former selflow lidded and crude
The bees’ knees
The bees are back to harvest the fruit of the flower, to pick through Jupiter’s beard and return to their angular rooms. And when they do, for that brief space between days, what’s it like in the hive with each… Read More ›
Can you picture what will be, so limitless and free
I miss the mornings, when there’s no one around. When I would buckle my belt as a state trooper would his holster and start my day sharp as an arrow, aimed at the center. But there is no one to… Read More ›
Split screen soliloquy
I don’t have cause to look in the mirror much but when I do, it’s more like checking in with an old friend. How’s it going? How’s it really going? I look deep into my eyes for the real answer…. Read More ›
Broken antenna
My phone says good morning to me, beside today’s temperature there sits a happy golden sun throwing beams like an Egyptian glyph. Past my phone, outside the window, the sun plays on the tall trees where invisible birds peep and… Read More ›
From Julius to Augustus
July gives way to August, and as it goes we are all giving way in this roundabout of life where you’re supposed to yield to the right but most don’t know what that means or pretend they don’t, as it… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 