We are animated by a force that inhabits this shell, bound to it.
identity
On Division Street
We didn’t move to the beach for that, we moved there to postpone growing up for one more summer.
“The things they carried”
It is a small but very precious part of me hanging in our front window.
5th and Hamilton
Maybe the art was in the refashioning of otherwise useless things.
The strength of strings
I started to learn that to write is to live, and you can’t do much of the former without the latter.
Taking stock
The problem started with the awareness that the days were blurring together with little to set them apart.
There and not
The same collection of poems, taking it slowly, reading it since fall, not wanting it to end. And if only I could get a pinch of Carver in my work, that was the stuff! Even a shake could transform me…. Read More ›
Moderate rain starting in 15 minutes
All night I bathed myself in the rolling sounds of ambient music, an infinite loop, bobbing up and down And woke to the sound of one of the kids calling to Alexa, to turn theirs off And downstairs to the… Read More ›
Removed
I can still remember the first Sony Walkman head phones and how it felt when the metal frame slipped out and rubbed against my temples. I didn’t care, it still felt like magic. The Police had come out with their… Read More ›
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 ›
Bill Pearse 