birds
chilidish things
Another in the series of “where a poem comes from.” I was walking in a bookstore when the phrase, “we always believed that she could fly” came into my mind, loudly. That night, a poem arose. The details are from my mother’s memorial….
Spring in the Wasatch
Two untitled pieces from a spring afternoon in the mountains (after dogen…) one day while out walking, the mountain may turn and hand you your heart – here this is your heart, don’t lose it near here lies the road home a cloudless blue sky holding the mountain countless winged … Read more