Tag Archives: fall

Late morning early fall, the beginning of the end all over again

I go to nature to heal, I go every day. And though it always feels the same, it never is. I rummage through the past and present, I go looking for what others leave behind. I didn’t expect the moon … Continue reading

Posted in prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 37 Comments

Portrait of a subject reduced to a thread

The ticking of the clock, the rain drops, the same sound of the wood burning when it pops. There’s no sound like that on digital clocks. And at the traffic light we converge for a time: everyone looking down, in … Continue reading

Posted in prose, technology | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

They know it’s time to go

After 89 days without a good rain it was definitive it would come back Sunday. We were gearing up for the first fire of the season, a stew, some red wine, music. We’d move the patio furniture to the garage, … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir, musings | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

The lake waves look like hands on the shore

Now the lake advances in creeping hands along the shore and the lifeguard chair is empty, there’s the threat of showers, the tree boughs move with the underwater look of deep-sea creatures in slow motion and the frog beneath our … Continue reading

Posted in poetry, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 9 Comments

Leaves clawing the cobblestones

When the French arrive, it’s with armsful of things from France: breads wrapped in brown paper bags, coolers full of cheese, boxes of wine, even duvets for their beds. It feels like a hotel and we lose track of how … Continue reading

Posted in inspiration | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments

First poem for fall

That first fall something found me there, the greys and browns of northwest Pennsylvania, what little light you find come November, the last of the leaves flapping just a few here and there, and yet           … Continue reading

Posted in poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 21 Comments

Leaves in a book

The days end like that, the same way they begin, me on my side gripping a pillow, wondering what day it is. Walking the steps at work, up the parking lot floors: walls made out of cinder block, what it … Continue reading

Posted in death | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments