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January’s Last Day
Afternoon walk beneath grey clouds with pockets of blue. To the west, a murder gathers over the hill, as ravens flock from all directions. Two deer quietly munch on exposed grasses while an owl makes its presence slightly known; we could not find its hidden branch. Trails of mud and grass lined with snow patches…
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Thaw
January does not remember what month it is, as March arrived early and stole the last remaining snow. Blue clear skies, no moving breath, just immersion in warm light that unlocks deep forgotten memories. I know that smell of wet earth and rising moisture. I know that bright light penetrating every layer. I pretend to…
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Grey Winter
What is it about winter that is so beautiful? Why do I shun away spring, the light guiding and coaxing seed to root to bloom? What within the deep winter months appeals to every fiber and cell of my being? Here in January, the wind scours iced land, thin of snow, yet brown and waiting…
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Moon
The moon hangs onto something the physical eyes cannot see. The moon offers a glimpse. The moon teases with enough surface exposed to excite. I would hang my hat on the moon if I believed enough in what is beyond here, believed that this reality is what we make it, and if I desired I…
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What Else
I stand before the great mirror of antiquity trying desperately, almost in vain, to understand what I see and where this came from, what process created that face and expression, the eyes peering back at me and the questions, so full of questions. I stand before Blackstone glacier and the refelction has changed, so too…
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Poem – Smoke
Smoke rose in the evening until the cold came now frozen in mid-winter pose.
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Calling
Lake Superior is calling form beneath greyed and washed out sky, the struggle of winter to take the reins of season from autumn.
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January 2012
Early January is not what we remember, nor what we mentally prepared for. October and November clenched dark days and long nights. What snow had fallen, already a distant memory. Earth caught in a transition, a seasonal purgatory as melting snow gives way to the air of spring.
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Poem – Winter
Deep into December. Cold sun breaks through greyed and empty clouds. Bare skeleton trees hold the sky within elongated fingers. The clouds speed across the horizon. Deep into December and the frozen group is also bare. Browned land looks scarred and neglected. This season of death leaves open its secrets, the things we are not…
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Story About John Haines
“A Walk in the Woods with John Haines” has been published in print by Edge Magazine and is available here for your reading pleasure. This story is about a walk in the woods I took a few years ago in northern Minnesota. As John Haines is a great influence on my own writing, both poetry…