In search of story


Disconnections: June 24.18

A willing suspension

of everything,

deliberate slow reach

daring, cautious quest

rising skyward from some restless molecule

within —

if you’re lucky

the grass prickles your back

clover tickles your heels

summer earth pillows your head

if you’re good at it

you seem mere debris

senseless —

the fine art of watching clouds

is not quickly attained.





Connections: January 11.18

It’s a world of mud

outside my door

sodden, spongey

barren bore.

It’s a sky of mud

dark and flat

spitting drip

and dribble and splat.

No light, no color

etc., et al.

so I turn my eyes

to Southern Cal.

Lifting me

to brilliant blue

this silver bonfire

makes me new.

Or is it wave

or maybe wing?

It doesn’t matter;

the sun’s the thing.

In such an image

the light’s outreach

touches me

in winter’s breach.

This bleak faux spring

is quite escapable

as long as I am



Many thanks to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives and the curator thereof for this wonderfully warming photo.