The crickets click and echo their snappy percussion ricochets staccatos my whole being upright I’ve never been to this bay before, never noticed it. Today I was led here by an unseen force. A steep descent loamy dust textured by fir needle and the first of the fallen leaves. …
I taste the apple butter simmered through the night, warm cinnamon caresses crisp air Not enough sugar In my sleepiness I add one cup of pink Himalayan sea salt I say aloud: I’m such an idiot Watch the words carelessly fall out, how outdated, insincere. I worry…
The mountains chill heralds in the coming Equinox mid September painted in smokey purple vibrant yellows dew soaked greens We eat the last of the blueberries Concentrated sweetness Dark smiles Inky fingers Pastel landscapes interface with fine neon thread a matrix woven of misty lake abyss coiled roots bright lichen gloss of fern Our laughter like…