And here is the river, covered by ice,covered by snow, covered by sunlight,covered in turn by a hushthat feels like a choice. And over all thissomething has gone running,small and light, across the softnessand the slickness and the darknessburied beneath. I walk across the snow and writesmall, snowy poemswhile the world’s current roars.Aren’t they pretty, […]
After the back of my skullhad a swift and passionate meeting with the ice,I was of two minds. My human mind:I’m so glad nobody saw that. My forest mind:I wish I could feel this snow falling on my face forever. My human mind:That means I can just lie here a while. My forest mind:That means […]
She pauses and tilts her head,the angle telegraphing somethingpart patronizing, part pity. “Didn’t you think you’d diedlast winter too?” “This time feels different.” “I know it does, sweetie.But forever is a very long time.” I’m always pretty convinced I’ll never write again. I wonder if trees ever feel the same way.
Tonight is the Feast of Beech Leaves,on which we hear the petitions of thosewho would have us hide: You are no longer useful.You are no longer beautiful.You are no longer wanted.Let go. Having heard them,we shake our skins in the snowlight and refuse to fall. A new vocabulary word for me: Marcescent. Adjective. (of leaves […]
For those who move quickly,winter brings a harsher cartography to the land. Geography gives way to geometry,all lines and boundaries and starkness. Simplificationin place of context, inky brushstrokes on parchment.An outline of a place, an idea of a place.Plato’s shadows sharp on a marble wall. Here is a tree, the quick-moving eye declaims, the fractal form of […]
I am completely alone in the woods. I am completely alone in the woods, except for the bluejays and the chickadees calling overhead. I am completely alone in the woods, except for the bluejays and the chickadees calling overhead, and the pines and the hemlocks and the maple trees all around me, creaking faintly in […]
Whonamed youto speak for this place? I named myself, crowned myselfin evergreens(there are no laurelshere). And as for the land,it’s never mindedwhen any birdor wild thing added a voiceto its own. Sure, I named myself Poet Laureate of Kilowatt Park, at least for 2022. But nothing would make me happier than to share that title […]
It’s not patiencewhen the body (the body in cahoots with nature,those assholes) forces you to wait. But sometimes in waiting,you get to witness sudden sunshine. So here you are, starchild, face flushed and sweaty,thrashing against the necessity of rest as the clouds break open all around youand drench you in unasked-for light. This poem brought […]
We deck the trees in colorto reminds us of joy when darkness comes. No need, says the land, garlanded in winter fruits.But we didn’t come to listen, did we? Every year the dog walkers decorate the park for Christmas, and it’s always such a happy sight this time of year, when the sun sets at […]
“It’s kind of … small for a writing project, isn’t it?” Of course it is. It’s a narrow strip of greenery between some power lines and a river, where a mill used to stand. You can hear cars on the road, and when you can’t, it’s either because there’s a train running past just to […]