writing

Pink suns

The August meteors were back, and with it memories of being in the Austrian alps by the farmhouse where we stayed, on my back on some dirt road watching for streaks of light across the night sky, making wishes. Bit… Read More ›

Kite song

He turned stiffly and with great caution. He meted out portions of his day with a butter knife grimacing as he did. He was an old man well before he’d earned it in years. But being an old man was… Read More ›

Making for a living

And the craftsman tries not to look while the customer eyes his work. But in that moment it’s like they’re at the animal rescue debating should they take one in, give it a home.

Someday gold

The grass is so dry now it’s mostly brown, a brown you would call golden if you looked at it right. And what’s to stop us from calling it gold? This stretch of life resigned to a form of living… Read More ›