Here, in a nook of the trembling landscape
where hills push up and back, away from
the crying ocean whose breath is wind,
She looks to her older Rocky cousins.
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Tiny Corner
I am fond
of my tiny corner
of the world: small
towns, beautiful beaches,
artists, writers, musicians.
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Am I a Writer?
A person does not need to sell $30 books or have essays in The Atlantic to be a writer with an audience. Readership is comprised of both casual and avid readers. What they read varies widely.
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Swimming with the Words
How did it feel to Get Lit at the Beach after postponing the event for three years? Like refueling an empty tank, breaking a long fast, or coming up for air? The experience merits more than snappy similes.
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Gift
He needs nothing except the sun to come up another day to celebrate his quiet presence on the earth.
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Old Goat Plunges into Another Year
Fifty winters after my emergence on earth I climbed up a dune and surveyed the beach below. Over a hundred primates were reveling near the frothy hoof of Neah-Kah-Nie Mountain.
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Midterms in the Oregon Multiverse
Wouldn’t it be useful to return to our origins, be like the salmon and travel between worlds? We could compare how realities diverge over time; explore every fork, each different decision. That might give us creative ideas for improving our own dimensional prospects.
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Voice in Sculpture
Your presence is important to what the sculpture is saying. Alone, a sculpted form awaits silently like notes on a song sheet. Yes, the sculptor expressed inspiration in the form, but without you the work lingers un-interpreted.
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Quantum Skip
I think, therefore I am
a Cartesian dictum in western philosophy
asserts primacy of consciousness
mind knowing itself more directly
than the external world.
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Brother Karson’s Jean Jacket
He will always be remembered as a guardian
who put his friends above all the things that most men fear-
few can tell the story of their life and say the things
he could’ve, say how true they stayed to the God-given
design of their soul.
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