A rainy morning in Ohio.
I’ve not seen my brother for many months. Yet here he is,
on the porch, plucking out a tune.
Waiting for me to wake. Continue reading Brother poem
A rainy morning in Ohio.
Why are you here and what do you need to live well in the world? What are your responsibilities? Who are your ancestors and where are they now? What do they have to do with where you are? What will you do to be a good ancestor? Continue reading Questions for my students that I also ask myself
I think about how the night sky never looks quite the same from season to season or if you’ve shifted a few degrees of latitude or longitude. It’s as if, when you travel, someone has rearranged the furniture of the firmament. Continue reading Nightwatches
We have to climb to see the sunshine. At 40,000 feet, the clouds seem like a vast snow-blasted landscape–blue shadows of the distance like linking pools of half-frozen water. It is a landscape without trees, just the long arc of the atmosphere curving away in the distance. The sun is bright and hot–it seems as if it has been days since I’ve felt its heat and blare, the sting of so much light in my eyes. Continue reading Who will watch you while you sleep?
A sonnet that begins with words yanked, one from each line of “returning the books to their shelves” by Bernadette Mayer. city time 19 stream taxi it mulch then window nothing books cold phone shelves Feeling far from the city finally in Desolation. Time to walk and stretch and swim and think until 19 o’clock in the evening when I hope we will eat a … Continue reading Another kind of wildness
Around each corner, in each encounter, is the potential for surprise, magic, time travel, fantastical possibility. Continue reading Water, activism and visible poetry: Thoughts while underway
A sudden drift of
fish startles up from the sea,
their silver backs flash. Continue reading A Winter in the Baja
I’m walking in Halifax, but I’m thinking about Mexico: smell of hot diesel on a melting pavement.
How is it that our impressions linger and layer, from one place to another? How is it that time mixes and melds in our memories? Continue reading Treading Desire Paths: Field Note #1
Journey’s End, or Reflections as one thing passes into another Sunday, August 27, 2017 Sky passes into sea, Rose Harbour, Kunghit Island, Gwaii Hanaas 4:30 am Atlantic Daylight Savings Time Sunday 27 August, 2017 West Quoddy, Nova Scotia Just a week ago we were in British Columbia, preparing for our last day on the boat for the year. We’d moved into the launch slip, for … Continue reading Journey’s End