Cold Blue Steel
The days are short in mid December. You have to chase light, what little of it is left to catch. But without sun there is drama, a pull to water […]
The days are short in mid December. You have to chase light, what little of it is left to catch. But without sun there is drama, a pull to water […]
Winter Moth A deranged sky, late November Raindrops glisten the limbs of trees Snow, the impossible dream Archives of winter under my skin. Let’s stay in tonight Lay back the
You know how I like barbed wire, how it twists Around old wood How fenceposts lean; how I like to find a good place To sit down on
Watery memories of summer, sun streaked and showy the texture of perfect loveliness the sea’s desire a kind of praise a creature of summer, herself, rounded and
house on Front Street, North Side Roads we could rent a sailboat, coast smooth stone beaches gorge on walleye cakes, whitefish in the soft shell. we could stop at a
I it’s hard to think now, how men with their shovelfuls and boatloads and sideroads mixed the best color, the good rock, the pay streak, the bedrock. Get a good
McClennan RED FLAGGED She hugs her baby, pats his bottom sets him on the floor, in the center, where spectators form a ring and watch. The “experts”: social worker,
M. Devine (Be) Venerated Breathe like a baby and soften Bend in the wind and feather the ground Become pliable as a young tree
riding the circumference of Lake Superior around the lake that breathes like an ocean a curve of sun tracks our faces: we plow into winds, watch a cloudburst bloom and
THE RIVER (HE) IS UNSTOPPABLE spring reigns, break-up pervades and we sit, around a campfire on the bank, watching the pre-game show, slow the brown river runs, undulant under the
Welcome to the creative playground of Image, Sculpture, Verse. I live in a river town nestled in the Chugach Mountain Range of Southcentral Alaska.
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