Cardinals Come

Cardinals seem to congregate in crowds when clouds are slated gray. When all the world’s a weary wet or dripping droplet water cold the cardinals call and strut their crests till the sun climbs out to day. – – – Photo by Brian Forsyth: https://www.pexels.com

The Sandcastle (part 2)

“No one’s ever going to save the earth because they know castles,” Tommy said. “And who’s going to save the earth with Bernoulli’s principle?” Sam asked. His voice a tad more desperate than he intended. It was supposed to sound clever, conclusive. “Maybe not the world, but you can keep planes from crashing,” Tommy said. […]

Winter Nocturne

Liquid light and purple bright snapping– almost silent wall of felt and unseen glow, melting thoughts to somnolescent mush. Leaden fingers weighted down; book leaves falling to the ground where they crumple as I sleep beside the flame – – – Photo by Nathan Bingle on Unsplash

When Love Meets Cold

When Love meets cold, it does not roll itself in brash, grey wool to cry; it gathers like the sky, folds itself around our dust, and falls— a hundred—thousand—million—times— in feathery diamonds all around us, making shining glory of the weathered ground.

Lazy Snowflakes

Not in a hurry, the flurries tumble, wind-borne, up and down and ‘round.

The Sandcastle (part 1)

“The oldest legend of Kenlow island is the Midnight’s Day. A magical night, a time of the dire, and the wonderful. From sundown to sunrise, a strange wakish light pervades. Not quite dusk, and not quite night. It is then, and then only that strange and magical things can happen. No one knows for sure […]

Useless

I give them my word and then it breaks— splintered letters I cannot hold together in the weakness of my hands. I try to splint them back, force the word to work—cracks and all, but I have faded from rock to wood to settled ash. The promises of yesterday, I can no longer lift, and […]

A Great While

While all the world’s asleep and darkness cloaks in decency Jacob’s calculated sins, and all the jibbering noisiness of Pharisees and unbelief lay still…as calculated death He sits, in mumbled breath catching at the faintest day the sliver-life before the strife and with “Amen” He rises.

New Trails

I do not regret the way I ran those last few miles of path desperate to reach the place it branched off to something new. But now I’ll slow take in the smell of pine and drink the colder air till sun and heat combine and wander with me long along this road.

Cloudbreak

The sun-gold gilds the blanket clouds like golden sugar or a wave of iridescent orange-pink. Just beyond the parting grey looms gloomy, glowering as night slowly treads the path retreat away from morning light. Now a burst of gold dust-glow breaks inside the clouds and showers streams of brilliance down to us below.