There is so much to notice, starting with the shape of the land in this place beneath the big tree roots that’s roly-poly, not something you’d notice if you’re my size but definitely as an ant or a snake. Next… Read More ›
poetry
Take a look at my life, I’m a lot like you
I’ve been practicing what it feels like to be an old man for years now. An old man with all the good parts, none of the bad. The pace that is measured, unrushed. Days that spill out like a cracked… Read More ›
As the yard began to brown
Green is the color of life, and for today I am wrapped in a quilt of it on grass and fern and hanging tree boughs. Brown comes next, it is already on the edges of the sword fern, the cedars,… Read More ›
The way it ends
it’s hard to fathom all the words in the English language that must end with the letter m, or why anyone would think to put that in a poem. Thanks everyone for playing along on my 30-day posting streak!
Song for Lily and Charlotte
There is no time like the present but no present like ice cream on a summer afternoon with you beside me in the car and you in the back seat well before the days of work life and strife, when… Read More ›
What will and will not last
Well the dog is on her last leg, my mom, her last refrigerator. That elderly couple I climbed with in the Alps: the tread is shot on their boots but what’s the sense in getting another pair, they laughed. Me,… Read More ›
Look out the window
I’m not really here right now, but I wanted to be so I could maintain a 30-day streak and I’m getting close. Sharing an interview I did in 2017 with one of the writers I follow who’s taught me some… Read More ›
The human race is run
Outside the hose is coiled, the drain rock undisturbed, the lamb’s ear grown an inch overnight. It’s the time of day all the conference rooms are taken by the clatter of birds kicking up sparks. Dew on the grass turning… Read More ›
Two sides of the same coin
He could be like a murder victim on his side, the way he sleeps. The arms flailing, the legs cocked weird. Like a deer on the side of the highway. The dead are like that, caught in a sudden peace…. Read More ›
A roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour
It is a sleepy Sunday with the cat in the window, the clock ticking and the rain. Me smacking my lips, tonguing my teeth as a lion might a sinew. House cats are no different than their counterparts in the… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 