Hearst The land is different than you’d expect- bigger and bleaker and more lovely. A clear cut is not the barren scar upon the land you envision when activists rant and rail. Trees straggle through in ragged residuals, lean poplars and larch and spruce. There’s wildlife, too; moose and bear being the most prevalent, but… Continue reading Excerpt
Remember when we said I love you? Yes and we laughed, old friends. And I asked, “So, who are you, anyway?” Nobody.
Gramma at the nursing home is querulous. Spits like a cat and slaps demanding to go home where Grandpa, ten years dead and her children grown with families of their own wait for her. I too will cry in my foriegn rooms to a bored nurse. Home is a time; A hot summer’s day, Nineteen… Continue reading home
“No man is an island,” so says the preacher. Though, he may live on one. Where he departs to the mainland by boat or bridge he remembers the waves and the breeze off the channel, the wild, high island sounds. All men die islands, then he returns to these shores of solitude.
Today I drove down Emery Road and along the lake- just for the hell of it. I had nowhere to be and the water was perfectly blue.
There’s a lot of time to think when you’re in the cherry trees, and I often found myself thinking of my grandma. My great grandma. My family has children young- I was born with great-great grandparents and had all of my great grandparents well into my childhood. I still have my great grandma Beulah. She… Continue reading Sandcherry jelly.
We can’t always be Johnny and June We’re just too out of tune To get along right.