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A CAPPING VERSE
Snow always seemed so rightcapping the summit of Fujiyama,not dulled by the windowsof the Shinkansen to Osaka. You barely noticed the rice fieldsfanning out from its basewanted to reach out and touch itfor that is what you do with icons. Mount Hood had the same effectbut the chill along the Willametteurged you to retreat quickly…
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LIVING
They sit in a small wine bar on an out-of-the-way street in an out-of-the-way city, she sipping a Oregon Pinot Noir while he is on his second Alsatian Pinot Gris. She asks him if he ever thinks about death. He peers into his wine glass, than at her and smiles a gentle smile, “I don’t,”…
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an old writer and his words 