Category: Northography

  • Poem – Machines That Move Earth

    (1) Putting aside hollywood notions of machine versus man – September morning is hidden in fog, coated with an early frost. Subdued sun scattered across fields, meadows, and prairies. The sky becomes the land becomes the horizon. We head north, leaving behind city lights and traffic for pine trees and winter in the air. (2)…

  • Poem – I Touched the Sun

    The other morning I touched the sun newly risen each ray spread into the valley creates the shadows that move. It did not burn, my skin did not singe, I touched the sun.

  • Poem – After The Fog

    This poem was written as a response to the visual prompt at Northography. We walked the shoreline into the thick fog. Guided by instincts closed eyes and the way feet touch the ground we fell into the fog. Days passed as we felt safe, held by something we did not know or understood. Questions fell…