Thursday, March 7, 2013
How Change Happens
An hour past, the Spring
released cold, hard
drops in a cascade of
half snow, half
water from a dotted cloud
line.
Two hours past, the
whitened air seemed
alive, brushing past
sleeping trees still coated
in frost icicles.
Three hours past was dark,
day gestation, the end of moon.
Now, a sky is shredding
into sun. I see, change
accumulates, then appears.
September
The oak tree in the backyard is finally turning yellow. I'm always reminded of these photos I took with Andrew and Nadia when the tree ...
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Excavation They are out in the street, digging up the cement with huge metal claws. Beneath is the dried dirt, full of pebbles. Below tha...
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The leaves on the big backyard Oak have the first tinge of yellow and boom. My brain, friend and foe, presents a memory, me talking the two...
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A harsh wind fists the forests’ wall of leaves. The shaken green smell expands my chest, cracking me open to air. Thunder sounds, vibr...