This is a new feeling for me: my work in print, offering me resonances I couldn’t have seen when it was only alive in my own head. Asking me what, exactly, I was thinking. Once they’re out in the world, texts don’t belong to their author. They have a life of their own; they interact … More What I Am Learning, Alone in the Desert Hills
Issue 6 of the wonderful Sky Island Journal is out today! Included there is a piece I wrote around this time last year, when my heart was freshly bruised from the loss of my long-time tabby cat companion, Gwen. It’s a gift to look back on the word-alchemy of choice and grace that crystallized from … More A Song of Home for a Heart That’s Breaking
What a month, October! I’m full of gratitude, friends — and that restlessness that says “why aren’t you writing a new thing, right now?” This is a fine time to practice — in that sense of a first-grader learning the piano keys — the stillness of doing one thing. I’m going to try and just be here, … More Star Songs & Water Rituals
Read it here in Mojave Heart Review or read below: Duck, Duck, Goose Why am I pleased with the rattle and shout of the towhee? Intrusive, right? Didn’t I say I like a quiet morning? The train fills up at seven a.m. with the hue and cry of these people — no … More Duck, Duck, Goose
Hello friends, I’m excited to announce that I’ve got some poems up just today, in the October 2018 issue of Mojave Heart Review! Loosely, MHR seeks a desert theme. No desert-dweller, I’m surprised how perennially fascinated I am by spare and arid landscapes, how much I’ve begun to seek them out. I suppose it’s not … More Chaparral Fragments
Hello Friends, I am delighted to announce that I’ve got an essay and some photos published today in Empty Mirror! The essay’s called Love Song for a River Bank (click to read), and if you know me, you might know the river bank the conversation starts on. If you choose to visit my piece, make a little … More Love Song for a River Bank
Night on the porch. Real darkness. The rain tries out some rhythms then shakes its head: “Take five!” The frogs advertise in the fields for all they’re worth. I’m not doing much. Vacation. There’s a blanket, a chair, the vague dark breath of the sea. I want to be composing, too: what’s my worth? Crack … More Fear of Missing Out
