Tag Archives: inspiration

The turning back spot before coming down

Posted on March 3, 2019 by

When the poem is done I let it take effect on me like a pill slid down my throat, waiting. And when at last you get to the top, when you’ve reached that place to stop and turn back, how … Continue reading →

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4:59, Friday

Posted on January 25, 2019 by

In my time of darkness I go back to the old haunts, to Raymond Carver: I closed the book and he looked back, and in the morning spoke to me on the toilet, in my bathrobe with my phone: He … Continue reading →

Posted in poetry, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments

Twilight September

Posted on September 19, 2018 by

In the late afternoon shadows, by the underlit leaves, near a tree bent by the weight of its own fruit…in the breeze between summer and fall: there, in the crook of a bush by a rock I spied a colored … Continue reading →

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Fred and Ted go camping

Posted on July 29, 2018 by

We went back up the Teanaway, the river valley on the east side of the Cascades that’s one of our favorite camping spots but prone to wildfires this time of year: an 18 mile road with only one way in … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, parenting, writing | Tagged , , , , | 18 Comments

Leading the witness

Posted on March 24, 2018 by

3/24/18 Pulling into Wenatchee on a Friday night just before dark. The Olive Garden family restaurant, a long time since I’d been to one and longer still before I’ll go back. Charlotte, slap happy / punch drunk on two Cokes, … Continue reading →

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Following false leads down the side streets to identity

Posted on October 3, 2017 by

Though it would hit 85 in Seattle (the last time for a year) I was sickly, pale and soft, an analogy to a piece of fruit that’s gone bad from the insides. I got off the phone with KLM to … Continue reading →

Posted in musings, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 26 Comments

“Jimi thing”: last day on Whidbey Island, spring break ’17

Posted on April 17, 2017 by

The last morning I went down to the whale-watching bench to say goodbye and there were no sounds on a Saturday but the birds, a crow clicking on a totem pole, elderly folks shuffling up the sidewalks, bearded construction guys … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, music, musings, parenting | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments