Oh, this death talk. This rainy November morning brings it on. The piercing orange sunrise lining the horizon. All Souls Day, Di de los Muertos. This time of year makes me nostalgic and calm at once. When the trees shed their wares. Secrets are revealed. Leaves float to the street or creek. Through the... Continue Reading →
Leaves and needles hide the trail boulders just trip hazards now. Watch out. Watch for life. Acorns. Cones and needles. And death. We think it is other. Life. Something other than this. Than what we live. Or lose. It isn't. Obscurity and autumn, secrets tease early winter waiting beneath ankles slipping or twisting. Forest debris thick with leaves that have all... Continue Reading →
pocket poet 