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The mountain
Read more: The mountainKnee-deep in snow, the mountain sits in stillness while we climb. Our skis, wading through powder, cut two tiny paths through the amnesia of whiteness. Ahead of us, blank page. The forest’s blotted out. A house we passed? A cross-hatch, receding in the distance. The peak? A mass of blur. You crane your neck, ‘How…
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Immersed
Read more: ImmersedI’d like there to be only quiet between us. Let us swim in a sea of quiet, lurking below the surface like the basking sharks or with our heads bobbing above the waves like two forgotten buoys far from the freighters’ routes or, better yet, let us make somersaults like the dolphins. I’ll know what…
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Blinding
Read more: Blindingblinding the sun in the autumn leaves after yesterday’s rain the smile on a child’s face when she’s healthy again headed to school to meet friends trying on a new outfit her and the planet both like plugging back the missing link in the circle of life. I need to go back to sleep but…
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The thicket
Read more: The thicketpeople have forged a pathway through the undergrowth, trampled the soggy earth, folded in leaves and twigs and absences, wet foliage overhead, burdened by clouds the color of sadness. my daily walk. I sidestep, eschew, go around greedy damp vegetating hands incessantly grabbing the narrowing light. I slither like a shadow among thorns. a stretch…
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Writer Between Worlds 