The Dawn of Man

The stick. How long did it lie on the ground before some freshly-human being picked it up and reached into the tree with an astonishing new arm— straight and long with an accurate aim? The fruit fell down. How long before it caught on— until everyone else saw the sense in it? The way itContinue reading “The Dawn of Man”

Waiting for the Wildflowers

All winter we wait for them— for the surprise of blue or yellow or white and we take their picture as if they were babies we want to show off to our friends! Soon they will become confetti for the celebration of spring— a reward for enduring that colorless season, which will wait its turnContinue reading “Waiting for the Wildflowers”

Little Earthquakes

Love has no power in the night when your need for him becomes a tremor you cannot calm— and throughout the dark hours little earthquakes disrupt your sleep even though he’s professed to you an equal depth of feeling— but there is no magic that can turn your body into hers when she wakes upContinue reading “Little Earthquakes”

In a Nutshell

  Your photos your smile my poems your river your activism my admiration my daydreams my curiosity your wildflowers your tulip tree your birds our hiking our laughing your butternut squash the snow the silence the sharing the listening your curiosity your daydreams our fire our clothes off our skin touching our love our adventuresContinue reading “In a Nutshell”


Some songs require silence after you hear them on the radio because the taste they leave in your mouth is so sweet nothing that follows could arouse in you an equal bliss except to see that face you love— the one conjured by that song— or to somehow hear the music of his voice againContinue reading “Music”

Sycamore Island

So many golden days layered between today and our sweet afternoon on the fallen sycamore— the one so large we picnicked on its spine and sprawled out across its crumbling contour — and however trite it sounds to say time stood still, it did— and for awhile we floated on an island made of loveContinue reading “Sycamore Island”


How dramatic love insists on being— as if its source were as uncommon as a wildflower blooming into the warm air of a Midwestern February afternoon— but it happens all the time and is as common as the dandelions that begin their long stretch in April— then August comes bringing proof that even the mostContinue reading “Weeds”


If his happiness was whole my love for him could remain a stagnant pool contained inside my chest— it would be enough to know his love was returned by someone he adored— but when I became to him a sympathetic confidant entrusted with the status of his love, I couldn’t help but quiver at reportsContinue reading “Proposition”

A Little Room

  It isn’t clear yet how much our differences will weigh once we arrive at our tentative destination or how easy it will be to continue on in pursuit of our original objective— which was always a simple wish to become lighter and more buoyant than we already are. All I know is that I’veContinue reading “A Little Room”