I am one for snowy story scenes. For slow walks through the safe streets of Tokyo, abandoned in the rain. For bumper cars, pedal to the metal, connected to a … Continue Reading I am one
In market’s bustle, I buy promises of time- new shoes I don’t need.
In 1922, Barbara and Owen Flynn from Strathmore, California, found a little mountain enclave called Camp Nelson. Following the example of their … An Oasis in a Mars-scape
In an anxious stepping dream, a scruffy old pup (three-legged) said “Thank you” into my ear as I held his hand on the stairs. Down a flight (in the waiting … Continue Reading Disturbed, I nodded . . .
November is when cats die, in my experience. One from a seizure. Two from tiny hearts. They helped with Hallowe’en first, then left me to cry in doldrums of cold. … Continue Reading Seasonal
~The swell and billow of a cloud in the blue hand of the sky. The slowness of its permutations, and how it imagines into life these tiny brown birds who … Continue Reading Reflections
I think of what the skin holds in, what’s in the bone, alone. The finds of the fingers that linger. What’s unsaid beneath the teeth. *** photo credit: https://openchurch.com/free-download/photo-of-womans-face-in-shadows-1004047/
~Somewhere by a brook~I say. A Freudian slip. You say What? What was that? I say ~Nothing~ but can’t keep a leash on plodding thoughts that say ~Plant a small … Continue Reading By a brook
Originally posted on Within A Forest Dark:
View of Chipola River from Porch, Florida Memory, flickr The night my son graduated college I lay in my hotel room and dreamt…
At times,I am one for shrouds- the fogs of morning, the smokes of burnings, squints through filmy windows. Oh these private mysteries, these fond imaginings- Manet, Monet, Degas, Renoir. I … Continue Reading Etchings
~I drove a car two hundred miles today. I know we’re not supposed to hug, but a woman cried in my arms as I despaired for her world. She said … Continue Reading Desperados
and this day has a nevermind feel the soulful king is full of regret ~hands off~ he knows watch those whispersfor they betray the teabag tumblesin morning mumbles do not … Continue Reading Jester
My story “When I wished upon a star” has been published by Gestalt Media in their short story anthology entitled “Best of 2020”.
Oh you, by the window- all metaphor and innuendo. Granny fists at the ready to cauliflower my ears, to pummel my donkey resoluteness. And I say Why Don’t You Make … Continue Reading Back to back
In sleep, the slowing heart, the forgetful lungs speak of an unwanting… a stepping down, a recoiling and return.
When I was alive, you quickened in bright crimsons. When I was alive. (Image: Wasan Tita/Shutterstock)