Tomorrow starts a long weekend away.  Away from internet, cell phones, television. To the North Umpqua River and the delights of a luxurious retreat in a beautiful place. We get a chance to visit with Lee Spencer,  the Fish Watch volunteer, which is a highlight of our trip. We missed our yearly with him last year [...]

Normally I’d have a few more photos from a hike, but yesterday I came back with eight. And twice as many mosquito bites. And as many black fly bites. I forgot my bug spray in a hiking season known for particularly bad bugs. Hiking from the car to around the lake I used my bandanna [...] Related posts:

Last Saturday’s Big Tent Poetry reading in Portland, Oregon was terrific, except for missing the organizing poet, Sage Cohen, who couldn’t be there. I am so fortunate to have been able to enjoy my very first reading in the company of good poetry friends.  It’s a day I will never forget. It felt so wondrou

The Instinctive Loving Response is what people do to avoid actual or perceived entrapment in trees. And it does not look like most people expect. There is very little hedge-trimming , no laughing, and no singing or sighs of any kind. Loving does not look like loving – it looks like this: 1. Loving people’s [...] Relat

It’s been a late entry into the hiking season: a chilly wet spring followed by a long summer cold put me off my usual stride. And my primary human hiking buddy had one knee replaced in the spring and was just feeling good enough to go out last Sunday. We did a short hike on [...] No related posts.

The Line Forms Here The line forms her. The line conforms to her. The line deforms her. The line is a free-form her. The line informs her. The line — malformed; her. The line misinforms her. The line performs for her. The line will not reform her. The line is true-to-form her. * * * [...] Related posts:

In case my three followers didn’t know, I am getting to read my poetry along side an amazing group of poets. I am completely excited, and a little nervous, too. I’ve made my selections and am practicing so as to keep up with my brilliant friends. And I keeping pinching myself. This is so cool! [...] Related po

The Hostile Witness Why won’t you answer my question? There is more than one answer. Why won’t you answer my question? There are more colors of blue than can be counted. Why won’t you answer my question? Names conceal as much as they reveal. Why won’t you answer my question? The starlings are mating

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We have a  house guest, Bella, whose family is in Argentina until mid-July. She is a little bit of a worrier, but is settling in nicely, except for the neighborhood fireworks. She arrived Tuesday night and got a bath, nail trim, foot-hair trim on Friday. She’s getting frequent walks and seems happy. When she first [.

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Applying the Thesaurus to a Middle-aged Life Today’s the day I change my vocabulary. Instead of dull, I’ll call my mind matt, a surface pocked by time, not unlike the stars, burned out but sending old messages along the Milky Way. Reports from the past. Gentle coughs echoed from back of the room. There’s no use resent

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Confession: A rejection today that is a little more painful than some. A local journal, one that is getting better, getting on without me.  It’s  tough not to think about numbers, about wins & losses. I don’t follow the World Cup, or even the NBA Finals anymore. But I still capitalize those constructs, a

Behold Our Dark, Magnificent Horror title of Mark Morford’s SF Gate column from June, 2010 Bottles line my bath & shelves. They contain no threat of bodily harm only youthful glow & hair: promised charm behind unleashed productive wells. Potions grant relief from bodily harm, remake degenerate cells & tu

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The sun shows where my heart lies follows your every move * * * A nice walk yesterday morning; yard work in the afternoon. It’s soggy again. I’m growing hydroponic tomatoes without wanting to. Related posts:weekend loveliness Shadow Shot Sunday Say Hello to Condoleeza Rice Related posts:

Surgical Time Travel Think of it: I’d take that undergraduate geology degree in hydrology, master future underwater technologies, create alternative energies, transform political hot air and raging capitalism into clean fuel. Laffing Gass® makes for geopolitical win-win. Why stop there? Land in 1920s Europe, step int

I’m delighted that my poem “Sometimes I Miss the Old Jealous Goddesses” is now published at qarrtsiluni. It’s my fifth inclusion, and I am a little surprised by that. Thank you to Beth, Dave and the guest editors who create such a great venue. This is also an example that sometimes writing to prompt

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Recipes for Recreational Sex* Slip me a cold stream pooling deep rain filtered through native soil bring me the whirring wings of delight prairies dotted with depressed nests many upright two-leggers seek novelty but give me what the seasons breed a mosaic of shelter and food to wild my kind, generations to know new aphrodi

(Click through to get to larger — and broader — images.) Related posts:wordless Wednesday wordless Wednesday wordless Wednesday Related posts:wordless Wednesday

I’m not finished. (Will I ever finish?) But I am making progress. I started small, with my bathroom drawers. Tossed old sunscreen, lipsticks, perfume samples. (I haven’t worn perfume for about 10 years, when my sense of smell got sensitive.) Put all the fancy soaps in one drawer (I actually use them, gifts fro

Pattern Language She can’t push herself far enough ….. to see. O futile bed clothes: get up, grind beans, make a pot The pattern is there, under foot …..pieces of crumpled fabric, rags braided into mountain ranges Proof that beauty is revealed ….. 30,000 feet above and serpentine threaded rivers are silvered tinct

Also known as confession-time. More on this loose theme can be found at January’s. * * * Confluence or circumstance?: Yesterday. I read a (well-known poet’s) poem about swans eating goose hearts & read a (well-regarded) poet’s essay invoking swans eating goose hearts. These two poets live in other side

Hi everybody, It’s me, WD. It’s nice to see you all. Here is a piece of drivel for you to pass the time. Answering Machine I’m sorry, I’d like to come to the phone, But I’m having sex with my wife Hot Damn! She’s a spicy one But sorry, I digress, it’s you we’re talking about In truth, I’d rather ta

Sitting in a Storm Cloud Unmanned aerial vehicles whisper in my ear they promise to send museum postcards …..pieces of the past in manageable bites love letters from me to the other side of you Knowing they buzz a charmed life in the ether lightens my step, I’m as buoyant as an offshore bauble and find stones t

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And there is still time to confess. I’m taking January’s advice to someone else: confess to one thing that made you happy in the last week — confessions don’t always have to be about the tough stuff. Funny enough (or ironically), it is sometimes hard for me to confess the good, happy-making stuff. Bu

Miss Artoria Gibbons, The Tattooed Lady To claim I’d been tortured isn’t far from the truth — yes the pen sears and indigo marks start as blood, but the stigmata I wear sets me apart from staying put, to sway away, the fifth of seven (or second of sixth, or) daughter in a closed-in clan, starved to watch &