Why the Mountains?

    Why the longing for mountains? Is it the wanting to be cradled like a child, like the spiritual–and miraculous–creation we are? Is it to both love something as inanimate yet alive as nature, and to realize all of life has the ability to love us back?  Is it because we know, deep in…

At Home in Snow

      We met north of the city. Outside, the church doors were locked and no wonder, it was a Monday. We both missed morning mass. It was the holidays, December, and this time of year seems to both rekindle and revoke my nostalgia for home. Dad rolled down his window to greet me…

Gravity is Measured in Distance

    I agree. Everyone at some point, given the chance, should get lost, should have their preconceived notions challenged, and should have their ass kicked (figuratively) by travel in a foreign or maybe just in an unfamiliar place. But growing up no one told me why travel was beneficial.  Ambitious middle-class youth would talk…

The Bittersweet Taste of a Green Tomato

  I don’t exactly know why it is I daydream or drift off.  It could be like the sunflower, turning its head again to get the best view of the sun.  I don’t exactly know what daydreaming or staring off into the clearing does to a person; surely there is a consequence to it all,…

enough

  Right now, there is that compelling drive to make those twenty-something hours to Tennessee, to run along the low-hum of dreary mountains into New England and on over to New York, To take my time coming back, through the quiet rocky forests To all those pieces of my heart I left behind in each…

day dream

Wasn’t the dresser just here? And the pictures, had they come off their frames? Glanced to find the windows no longer open, only a dark film stretched where they used to be. Spoke, “wait,” to the hollow room to listen, but only felt a harsh gust rush through under my feet. The wind ran across…

Where Home Will Come to Settle

July 9th, South Creek Trail I’ve been mulling over “Wild Geese” by Mary Oliver since the first time in March.  The poem seems to be slowly developing its color and understanding as I allow myself to really feel into how its message applies to my life. The line, “harsh and exciting” has caught my attention…

Clearing, Planting

24 May, 2017 I took a walk through South Creek the other day after visiting my grandfather.  My grandfather’s German Shepard, Elsa, took me fast down the trail, pounding out her excitement paw-after-paw.  Eventually my thoughts caught up to my own body and I pulled to heel Elsa as best as I could.  I could hear…

useless

  There are times I think of mother with me, no more words to speak, just the holding. Folding into her heart, anything Precious, near though those pieces may be useless now: The pebbles under the sand, like old currency Or the rusty chain links creating palpable places passed over by a bird overhead beating…

The Joyhood of Change

Crumbled concrete lots became the playgrounds building tall towers of sticks and rocks my joyhood would be as I toppled these cities as uninhabited as the empty, sprawling suburbs as glee, maybe mania, overtook my spirits as if imitating the crains’ clearing was as if reclaiming something as memories too often demolished as those stories…