We dropped down into Denver, the lights below, the wisps of cloud and snow, a funny time of year to visit. A time you wouldn’t unless you had to, the passing of my brother-in-law Chip, a celebration of life at… Read More ›
writing
Sunday night with the tree
And I wondered what it thought of all this ornamentation and this fuss: this cruel ending.
Their home
This is where they’d started their family, when it was their home.
Thanks giving
And then for a time it is just the sound of the dog licking an empty bowl I’ve turned out all the lights so the coming dawn can fill every room and why do we say, “I’m filled with loss”… Read More ›
One decision of many
Our lives become a summary of our decisions: the actions we take (or don’t take) that make us who we are.
All of us
How many selves do we get?
Poem to celebrate an open PO
On the last day before I went back to work I lay on the sofa with my shirt off and the morning sun coming in, playing a record, burning incense, reading poetry. All I had left was to clean the… Read More ›
Wit’s End, Washington
In the mornings it’s so dark I just lay in the den watching constellations and listening to the clocks tick, thinking any day now I’ll start work. I read about portmanteau words like brunch, Brexit, and Microsoft. The word psionics,… Read More ›
The origin of the word ‘souvenir’
I removed all evidence of Halloween except for the jolly jack o’ lantern with the little electric light. It had no amount of malice, like a kid’s happy face before they’ve learned how to sneer. I left the large plastic… Read More ›
Your Mom’s Ashes
Lily and her friends have formed a band called Your Mom’s Ashes, but spell it in a way that bastardizes the your and ignores the possessive for the mom’s. The four of them circle our property looking creatively blocked, needing… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 