Tag Archives: The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over The Hills

Song for the undoing

How the days went by like the poets said they would, like wild horses over the hills or worse: indistinct and unnoticed, unremarkable, not lived. Let the days be seen for their own worth, wild as horses, mysterious as the … Continue reading

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No Christmas in Germany (16 Dezember)

Join me this month for stories of our time here in a small German village where we’re visiting with my mom. I’m experimenting with straight journal-style blogging as a ‘post-a-day’ challenge. Thanks for reading, BillĀ  December 16, 2017 Besigheim, Germany … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir, travel | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments

Poem for Bukowski on horses, days, the rain

The days ran down the side of the hill the way the rain can, how you don’t notice it’s worn down the surface until it slides right off. Inspired by the title of a Bukowski poetry collection, The Days Run … Continue reading

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Running the days out like tap water

I think about Charlotte coming down the steps in the morning, her hair a bird’s nest, the pitter-patter of bare feet across the floor. When it was especially hard early on in parenting, Dawn reminded me it wouldn’t always be … Continue reading

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No present like the time

Ginger is on top of a stuffed rabbit with a squeaker, looks like she’s sodomizing it. The rabbit has a cartoon eye, looks nonplussed. Ginger thrashes it to break the neck, sniffs its underside, walks off distracted, comes back. I … Continue reading

Posted in humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments