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 ›
short form
At first, and then
That was the first time I realized that just because you put something in print doesn’t make it any better than it was from the start.
Quiet choir for midwinter mornings
The end of the world or start of a weekend when everyone’s away.
Gig work and trapeze artists
It can be scary for a contractor without the promise of work lined up after you end a gig, like a trapeze artist letting go of one swing and reaching out for the next.
His own forever collapse
It was hard to live with an eye for detail and not crumble beneath the weight of these corrections.
Broken clouds
What little light from this, these broken clouds.
When everything matters
It was like I’d just discovered the scale of life, that there was more of it than I could ever consume.
Song for late autumn Saturdays
A voice is wailing from the radio, an opera, in a language I don’t understand. The gray today is like a palm pressing down on my head or worse, a pillow. One kid is in the shower with the radio… Read More ›
One remembrance
We dropped down into Denver, the lights below, the wisps of cloud and snow, a funny time of year to visit. A time you wouldn’t unless you had to, the passing of my brother-in-law Chip, a celebration of life at… Read More ›
Their home
This is where they’d started their family, when it was their home.
Bill Pearse 