-
AUTUMN
Once again I can imagine it arriving one morning probably unannounced. I won’t see it coming until I find myself in the middle of it, wrapped up within, always knowing that it will slide away without warning and the leaves will fall in regret.
-
WINDSONG
Far out on the mesa the wind sings an alluring song to the melody of the wooden flute. You can sit among the sage, and like the orange orbed coyote around you, stare up at the moon and look for the spirits of the ancient ones that lived in these mountains, the tricksters who…
-
ARRIVAL
Night arrives, the rain arrives, and the sun is washed away to dry beyond the horizon and there to prepare to reappear.
-
QUANTUM
Quantum gravitation, I strongly suggest, is something on which you cannot really count. I know all things are supposed to be relative but as an only and adopted child I have none, for me relativity is something special and generally the lack weighs heavily.
-
SLIPPING AWAY
Each day I am certain something more slips away, forgotten, no longer able to be recalled, lost in the vast abyss of yesterdays. I would like to think this happens because something new, something better has taken its place, and I had no choice but to displace it. That is the convenient story I tell…
-
ARRIVAL
Twisted strands tell a strange story – acid, a trip you never intended to take – amino pairs that walk you into a world that is yours alone and universal, a foreign place you now must call home.
-
GALLERY (IN) CONCERT
Kandinsky, Braque, Matisse and Degas all stand patiently in the hall wondering if anyone, this night, will notice them as they always seem to do, while Motherwell and Pollack lurk around the corner, feigning indifference, dreading being ignored. The sound check is long ago complete and the three men sit in the cafe lost in…
-
THE SKY
The sky is the leaden gray that denies the sun and threatens the moon’s arrival. It presses down on the roofs of the talest buildings, wraps them in a depression those on the street below feel without need of looking up. This is a teasing sky- a drop here, there, until we know we are…
-
TIPPING THE WATER BOTTLE 無門關 四十
These few words gathered neatly on a scrap of simple paper, what do you call it? Answer carefully for you response may carry the keys to the doors of Mount Tai-i. Better still, upend the water bottle, watch the ink and water form a gentle pool into which no pebble drops. A reflection on Case…
-
SHE SAID
She said that we are little more than clay to be molded by God and carved by fate and we count on nothing more than this day. It’s but a week since she has slipped away, we expect our sense of loss to abate. She said that we were little more than clay, just so…
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
an old writer and his words 