I’m almost lulled to sleep and quit my bookby the voice overhead of green on green—like the shift and tumble of a brookbut spoken by a wind through the trees. A yellow butterfly dips and quiverslike a lazy autumn leaf. Then a crack and all thought is lost of streams and rivers,and the pale sky… Continue reading So Much That I Don’t Know
I watch with some dismay as they facethe glittering Pacific, their feathersruffled in the coil and furl of a mid-September breeze, and despitethe long passage their plumage is crisp and white as silence. The royal terns are back for the winter.With their ragged black crestsand dagger-like beaks they pose with entitlement on their piece of… Continue reading Harbingers of Change
I finally replaced our basketball netwith a brand new ultra-white version of hope—imagined us shooting hoops again soon,defying the athletic limits of age. Who knows, I said, the kids might returnand we’d show their children how to play "Horse,"—who's first to get a hoop for each letter—and time could stall like the arc of the… Continue reading Which Way Is the Past?
“The world breaks everyone, and afterward many are strong at the broken places.” Ernest Hemingway, “A Farewell to Arms” A century of apples broke its back— in the dappled shade, that farthest tree— the trunk lies horizontal in the grass, too weak, for now, to battle… Continue reading The Old Apple Tree