But I Heard the Rushes

You didn’t hear the breeze through the rushes—the sifting sound, like sand through your hands— or linger for a breeze to come againto hear them whispering and feel their hushes as calming as the ripples in the creekthat washed around their deeply secret feet. Voices that the towhees heard—and me—once upon a morning, like a… Continue reading But I Heard the Rushes

Something about a Boardwalk

reaching over a salt marshthat invites me to hoverabove the great tangle of earthlike a mote that floatsover the madness. A bit of architecturethe forest offers of itself surrendering its sun-bleachedcedar smell up throughmy pilgrim feet, the perfect warmthof horizontal planksfragrant as the woodin a Swedish sauna whereI huddle naked, small. Here a mallard paddles… Continue reading Something about a Boardwalk