There’s a chill setting in, drawing out an amber palette which lights up for a moment golden before it smoulders to a brown. There’s a rain coming down, transforming the world into a muted darkness suffused with potent measures of melancholy and romance. Für Elise in the key of G. I welcome it. I know…Read more Fall Circle
The Edge of Summer
Summer is moving steadily and surely towards autumn. We are right on the edge of it. The deep lush green of an unusually long, hot growing season is giving way to the blazing colors of countless sunsets. First it comes in fitful bursts: swathes of yellow, lashings of red, streaks of pink. Growing bolder and…Read more The Edge of Summer
It is early morning. The world is dark blue and cold. A thin pale line traces a horizon that wasn’t there a moment before, when the darkness made no distinction of earth and sky. The sky lightens faster, from dove grey to the silver of vacant mirrors. Rose-tinted edges rise up and spread out into…Read more Half Lives
My earliest memories make no logical sense, one moment I’m standing in a field of sugarcane, the next moment I’m with a flock of ladies in a churchyard, in another moment I‘m running up the front steps of home. The green cane stalks loom above me in my toddler height, bowing in the wind as…Read more Lasting Summer
I used to dream of forests, asleep and awake. Dense groves of ancient giants, gilded domes of oak and maple, stands of slender aspens, bearing silent witness, swaying to a breath. Wild, hidden places where life feels more alive, at once intense and restorative. Where my outline might be found within a profusion of stalks,…Read more Pale Forest
It begins with a feeling, barely there. A song from a dream you can’t remember. It might just be the most beautiful song in the world, the way it strains your nerves with effort to recall. Once floating in waves of melody, bathed in golden light. Now adrift in fragments are the embers, unwilling to…Read more For Now
Life After the Apocalypse
As soon as you set foot on the enormous airport runway, you will feel a strong wind. A wild, ceaseless wind that has nothing to buffer it, nothing to contain it. A wind that is both soothing and refreshing, the kind that clears your mind, reminds you of the sea. Instead of deep blue water,…Read more Life After the Apocalypse
The Wreck of the Hesperus
I remember the cool darkness as I stood backstage. My fingers were tingling, my stomach was churning, I was both excited and nervous—the classic symptoms of stage-fright that I was experiencing more and more that year. Mrs. Wozniak, my fourth-grade teacher, had nearly forgotten about the event in the auditorium that day. With just minutes to […]
A Snow of Petals
A snow of petals in the wind, Is the ice cream of frigid flurries, Melting, unfurling, swirling, In a sweet, slow grace. Textures, gestures Linger, So closely held, Cherished As they disappear.
Birch Woods Spring
Birch woods spring, Delicate stuttering, Diaphanous muttering, of sweetly invisible blooms. Walking softly, Someone calling my name. A hush ascends to listening. Silvery streams beneath us, whispering promises as they wake.