Category Archives: small stone

1/13/2013

January softens to 62 degrees.  We open the windows, welcome air foamed with false spring.  My daughter says I missed the smell of the earth, and I know what she speaks to–that blend of mud and grass;  greens and browns rolling through … Continue reading

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01/14/2013 small stone

Dogs can whine stacatto–the black lab jittering in the cat section of the waiting room has dotted flights to sing–a song with teeth in it.

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1/11/13 small stone

I don’t need to have the last word or the first.  I must own each one I have been given in between.

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small stone 1/10/2013

Once sun strikes that ice, it will slick to a tractionless slide tires try to grab and instead spin.  The speedometer goes to 60 in that burn to go (any)where, but you are fixed and spun; not up or down, forward or … Continue reading

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1/9/13 small stone

What is infinite, if not something that defies measuring?  This, where we stand or walk, lie dreaming or just sit on a hill, or a stone, or grass, or around a fire, chanting; this had a beginning, and is not … Continue reading

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Small stone 1/8/13

I am full body and thick bones.  If I travel to you through ether, then it is not me weaving a shirt for you from pine needles.  It is not me feeding you stone soup and snow bread that will only break butter.  

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1/7/13 small stone

Pine needles, still smelling of Christmas– litter swept into the dustpan.

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