This Mute Moment in Time

Year after year I return to sit by this old stream bed framed in sycamore trees and watch as they slowly release their leaves to begin the long and silent good-byes— my elders, the tribe of the sycamore tree— they watched over us throughout our childhood as sentinels, when they patiently stood in our yard… Continue reading This Mute Moment in Time

Disappearing Paths

Some people might describe this yard as plain: the locust trees and rosemary, all green mother ferns and privet shrubs that grow around the stump where children played; some gnomes my son gifted to me, he thought a joke--- like volunteer plants that want to poke through disappearing paths---(though most I wanted.) There used to… Continue reading Disappearing Paths

The Back of a Young Boy’s Neck

He tosses another stone at the waves. I don't see it fall---only the back of his neck, so small and birdlike it makes me inhale deep---in that moment I'm struck by the dusting of sand on his left ear, the slightest glimmer of late summer sweat, the little boy shoulders---strangers to fear--- and downy skin… Continue reading The Back of a Young Boy’s Neck

Midnight Transformation

When the need came for me to fly I pictured a juvenile red-tailed hawk, her gray feathers fingering rising air, playing the nocturne of her flight. Soon afterward contractions began; I severed the cord that held me since birth and breast stroked through the sea heavy air. See me? I'm flying! I shout to a nest of vipers,… Continue reading Midnight Transformation

To Radiate, Even Briefly

Deep beneath the sea, in a bed of sand, a tiny pufferfish flaps tail and fins and labors over cryptic hills and bands and valleys, and with burrowing begins his DaVinci: Perfect geometry of circle and furrow, radial lines all adorned with shells, in symmetry as if the Master's hand guides his design. With luck… Continue reading To Radiate, Even Briefly