Bill Pearse

Recent Posts - page 43

• Fall back

  By Bill Pearse on October 31, 2021 • ( 12 )

  

  It’s the last Sunday in October, dry, and I’ve just torn up the front garden beds and transplanted everything to the back. Like Dawn used to say about our basement in West Seattle, the back of the yard is where… Read More ›

• The dead

  By Bill Pearse on October 28, 2021 • ( 16 )

  

  It’s that desperate time of year when most of the leaves are down and my morning walks are dark and windy. The time of year I took my last solo backpacking trip, last October. I’d quit drinking and the trip… Read More ›

• Role playing games

  By Bill Pearse on October 24, 2021 • ( 22 )

  

  He hunched over his plate the way his father would and drizzled olive oil over his beans like the Italians. But it was unlikely his dad ever did that, he wasn’t the adventurous kind. He loved his dad for the… Read More ›

• Winter over

  By Bill Pearse on October 17, 2021 • ( 13 )

  

  The walk was wet, the ground spongey. The leaves on the trees looking desperate, red or gold. He saw himself in those leaves and how they hung on. He sat on a dry rock beneath the trees on the lakeshore… Read More ›

• They are still there

  By Bill Pearse on October 12, 2021 • ( 16 )

  

  Why did I dream about you, after all this time? You were there in a sketch the way you once were. And the two of us were going home together, my place or yours. Yet we were older, there was… Read More ›

• First viewing of Star Wars, 1977

  By Bill Pearse on October 9, 2021 • ( 22 )

  

  It’s almost summer and we are downtown at the Eric 5 movie theatre standing outside waiting to get in. I am six years old, first grade going on second. We see a girl from school I’ve got a crush on,… Read More ›

• Carver

  By Bill Pearse on September 30, 2021 • ( 7 )

  

  He lay on his back on the sofa like he always did, looking out the window. Birds flocked around the orange berries, limbs flopped over, leaning down. A hearty rain. The grass needing cut. With the pandemic they had gone… Read More ›

• On the 5-7-5

  By Bill Pearse on September 29, 2021 • ( 6 )

  

  Morning’s solemn moon sliver of your former selflow lidded and crude

• Last Saturday night in Wallingford

  By Bill Pearse on September 28, 2021 • ( 19 )

  

  It is late afternoon on a Saturday in late September, early fall, and it all could be normal again if it weren’t for the masks and jugs of sanitizer in the entryway of the cat cafe here in Wallingford. The… Read More ›

• September’s riches

  By Bill Pearse on September 23, 2021 • ( 20 )

  

  It was the first day of fall, and time to check the plantains. The plantains were from Ecuador, the size of cartoon bananas, Mickey Mouse phones, the old land-line kind. I had them in a paper bag to speed the… Read More ›

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