It was winter’s last gasp with wet snow in the lowlands and more expected in the mountain passes.
Memoir
Jaw Rest
I looked up images expecting to see something from Alien.
“Between thought and expression there lies a lifetime”
In the early morning before the sun comes up we sit in the dark with a candle and our coffees and ask how the other one slept. Letting the dog out and standing in the fog, hurrying back in beneath… Read More ›
“The things they carried”
It is a small but very precious part of me hanging in our front window.
You never give me your money
Lily, born today and growing up in that little house in West Seattle behind the Sub Shop #9 and the corner bar we never once visited, Chuck and Sally’s.
The new normal
The seam between winter and spring.
Song for March invocation
The awareness of how different it is here than in my neighborhood in the suburbs.
