July 1
while we were gone the lettuce bolted the pea pods grew outsized and tough still, full of pearls to dry, let harden and plant again next year— an absurd generosity asking only for some time
All posts tagged: art
July 30
First the sow and then the cub flat-faced, gouache-furred up above the service road climbing the bike trail through thick black alder— then the cub but not the sow, still not the sow, just wind in the tall grass, presentiments and doubts . A day later, at the border, waiting in line, looking at photos, car after car, lurching forward, again the menace of the unseen, an arbitrary line, truck routes, corn fields drawn at […]
July 29
the age of this place! and still it said the basalt flows of the Garibaldi range are relatively young— one could say something, then, maybe, about lenses, about powers of scale, how a thing comes into focus, so another falls away, something about the buoyancy of names, floating above a place, vagaries of translation, of words soft as wet ash, how this alphabet cannot spell them, how silt turns this lake otherworldly and opaque, how […]
July 28
arboreal sigh the wind lifts the boughsand lets them fallpresaging rainthese little tells—the terse alarm callsof the nuthatchessaying maybe, maybe the cougars have comedown low after stalkingin pairs two mountain ranges overso unusually bold—perhaps a harbingerthe canopy dense the understory opening up like a secretno berries are ripe yetbut among the stands of mountain ash like clarion bellsa slew of tiger lilies
July 27
We followed the creeka river, reallyloud in its bankslouder still underthe amphitheaterof a bridge—a striking huesomething primordialless green than bluebut not fully eitherrunoff from a glaciermelting unseenhigh in the mountainabove usa supposition—most of the foothillsblanketed by clouds.We picked up rocksand guessed wildlyat their provenanceGranite? Shale?and threw them backinto the wateror ricocheted themoff boulders to skipthem far into the deepand I wonderwhen you are olderwill you see these flightsas random chanceor as probabilitiesunpredictable, but known—and will […]
December 30
You ask every day now what is distance I point to the mountain white and still as an etching foreshortened and rising as if from the lake you are now gleaning that words are slippery fish two-faced wide-eyed dull or gleaming depending on which way the scales lie
December 18
the horses abandon their paddock for higher ground it’s really coming down now constant drubbing insistent as a heartbeat the ground is at its limit it might be fatalism to say if it does, it does if it will, it will, but each raindrop hammers home its point with relative accuracy the valley road will flood soon the sky reflected back in pools of muddy glass
Decemeber 20
the street ended in a cloud as did the day a damp forest lot made softer by mist some of it rain and some of it a gift a slip of the ephemeral given up by the earth
September 17
The spiderwebs are all that is holding this together everywhere now in these odd days that exist between summer and fall the same stale heat or frost at dawn the sun ceding more readily the punch hole moon the geometries of birdflight anything could happen when did that become a threat?
May 3
After the rain watching the chickens deliberate in the grass a small gecko working its way up the palm cane a flash of guava at its throat this sultry, verdant place— we all sleep easily but lightly the soporific ocean the balmy taro fields water pooling like mercury around the alien stalks a dreamscape a floating afterlife earth made sky the heaviness of air suddenly palpable— strange to step out of a life so abruptly […]
OPTIONAL POETRY 