I cleaned the drain traps, packed my lunch, said goodbye to the kids and left for work. When I got home I took my socks off and went outside barefoot, spilled my beer, had to go inside for another. The… Read More ›
pacific northwest
Gray of lake combined to sky, the same
Through the narrow path in the nearby park, a semi-circle that crowns my walk, the trees are leaning in and damp with dew. It’s late spring now, past peak, broken petals brought down by an overnight rain. I come to… Read More ›
One Saturday in May, with ’77 million paintings’ playing
The cottonwood started falling and now it feels like we’re in a snow globe that won’t stop. Charlotte and I went to the aquarium and looked at the octopus, its sheep eyes, the valves where the cheeks would be, opening… Read More ›
The number 4 airshaft seam to Primrose Mine
I woke at 4, fell back to sleep until 5, then dreamt again and got up. If dreams can be categorized the same as data (unstructured, structured, or semi-structured), then mine qualify as ‘semi-.’ I got to the trailhead early… Read More ›
Cumulus in D-major
After work I went out back with a lawn chair to clear my head and watch the clouds. There was a flat spot to put my beer glass on a stump, from the plum tree we had taken out last… Read More ›
Each day, in-stead
It’d been a while since I took my morning walk to the lake. I couldn’t remember the last day I did but it didn’t matter, they all ran together. Passing the birds and rabbits I wondered how it felt for… Read More ›
“Send it off in a letter to yourself”
In the morning my eyes were puffy and my hair askance, and I went to Starbucks like that for a cold brew. I said skip the ice, I just need the caffeine — the woodpecker woke me up again. And… Read More ›
The crow can’t sing, it clicks
Down the blooms fell, a different kind of fall. We did the spatchcock chicken again with the New Orleans rub and the leftover corn and asparagus. It was one of the best days I had at my new job, and… Read More ›
No soft shoulders
On my walk to the lake it was definitely May, with a thin film of fog and many colors beneath. The pink cherry blossom blooms thrown down like confetti — the robins and rabbits, all the sights and sounds of… Read More ›
Arabesque No. 2 in G major
At last the rain stopped, and the fog set down on the tallest trees. Their shoulders were slung low from the weight of it all, and the morning street lamps were on their last shift. But the birds sang as… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 