for Charlie routing earth for ants, our quarry a queen, it was as if the air turned to petals and buzzings of bees, each of us sweet and industrious in the bright breaks between rain earlier, we'd paused for the low darts of the swallows … Continue reading mending a friendship
four crows in the June grass watch me watching them from my bright blanket, while the fifth plucks sprigs of blooms from the chestnut an all-at-once wind teases white petals into yellow light - a sudden floral flotilla and the fifth crow flies with one, … Continue reading June crows
the sun unraveled, spooled itself into the Sound as if it needed something to fall into at the last I imagine startled fish - their silver suddenly gold, a splash of unexpected flash © Sarah Whiteley
the last evening in May and the dogs are still, stretched beside the window as still as the trees whose wind momentarily has no urge to prove itself the light nearly gone, still there is a lone hummingbird in the plum and two house finches … Continue reading last evening in May
I go out, and come back - to the low voices of everyday concrete saying stay, voices that are each time fainter I go out, and come back - in sun, in mist, in rain - and each time the tether is less, and closer … Continue reading I go out
it was as if all of every summer's heat had sunk into the worn boards of the porch twenty years ago and I would do more than simply sit beside you and tell tales but here and twenty years backwards, I'll admit to seeing the … Continue reading porchlight
today everything I know is somewhere else except that the ivy has been trying to come through window I remember the last time I crawled through a window that was Mexico though, with the moon low over the sea and the slow procession of turtles … Continue reading somewhere else
