The rising sliver of the waning moon is good company. So is a blank page. I have seen many of the latter dawn and fade over the years, very nearly one each day — fade into print, into scratch, swirl, and scrawl. But if I had to choose between the page and the moon, I would keep the moon and let go of the page. And while it is one […]
Fifty-eight degrees. Standing shirtless on the grass at dawn under a steady rain, face to the sky, I was surprised at how warm I felt. Twenty minutes later, inside, while finishing my shower with the water turned completely to cold, I was surprised again by how much colder the water was coming from the city well and up through the pipes that run under the house. What, in degrees, is […]
Loving thumbprint a valley wide; pie crust mountains;the very steam of sacred light. “Present Perfect”Recently Banned Literature, September 20, 2015 Don Quixote October 12, 2015 . [ 1201 ]
Hot days. Warm nights. Mosquito bites. Ripe grapes. Dry lakes. Somewhere, love, it rains. A red sun. A rooster dawn. I should have known. Sorry that I told you. August 14, 2021 . [ 1199 ]
Dewlight and starry grass — a soft blue mist, as far as the toes can see. August 10, 2021 . [ 1194 ]
Australopithecus afarensis. Homo habilis. Homo erectus. Homo sapiens. What is generally referred to as ancient wisdom is of such recent vintage, that one can only begin to wonder what wisdom really is. And, biologically speaking, when, and where, and how, did the soul creep in? Was it present in the man-apes with brains the size of those in chimpanzees? Did God say — each word requiring millions of years to […]
A rosy-fingered dawn. Hummingbird, says Agapanthus, this is love. July 27, 2021 . [ 1177 ]
Two hummingbirds, in and about the maple and juniper: two steps of a hummingbird ladder, climbing into evening. One green apricot, gnawed on while still in its bloom jacket, or soon thereafter, fallen to the ground, possibly nudged by its mates to its doom. Happy for all that. Look at me, Mom, I made it alone. Afternoon, marching backwards. Morning, a bright cheery clown. Dawn, roses in bloom. On the […]
daybreak / a singing robin / sees my toes / then sings a little louder Canvas 874 April 12, 2017 . [ 1067 ]
Well, for one thing, tho’ the street lights are on all night, they don’t say a word. Then, at the first hint of daylight, even on the darkest and cloudiest of mornings, they start singing and calling to one another from the trees. And so the street lights are lighter than daylight, and dawn is darker than night. But the robins — yes, the robins, still get it right. February […]
