Art

Summoned

Lying flat out on my belly, face down in the sand: vulnerable, defenseless. Suddenly, out of nowhere, like Moses's burning bush, like Jacob’s ladder, the summons comes: terror and hope. Terrible hope. If I am wrong, I am just here in the dirt, more aware of it than ever. But anticipation is trembling like air…Read more Summoned

My Dad’s Canoe

Shadowed land recedes. Oars undulate water, cadence of myriad droplets shift the expanse. How far? Where do the ripples cease in this expanse where we are the only catalyst? Wordless we settle the oars at our sides, lean back. All is still. Water tranquil as glass. Thick early morning clouds lean low like a lover…Read more My Dad’s Canoe