the betweens

more familiar with the betweens than with the origins and destinations and that, I suppose, is the nature of the journey we take - a conglomeration of moments framed by first and last breaths, by the hopeful fogs of tomorrow's mornings and the dry silences of last year's gardens © Sarah Whiteley

down east

it was late November when I drove toward Maine I still hear how the wind tore across the highway, rattling doors and nearly blowing that tired red Buick into the frozen ditch I had second, third - hell sixth thoughts on the other side of the state line, but I kept right on - forward … Continue reading down east


Five years ago today, one tiny little poem marked the beginning of ebbtide. Five years! Am I celebrating? Hell yes! I am so grateful for the countless ways in which this little space on the internet has helped me - as an emotional outlet, a sounding board, a source of writerly camaraderie, and a place … Continue reading Celebrating!


it begins with a walk through sweet bee fields between trees that speak of mornings beneath the mountain’s gaze left far behind when the wanderer became the lost it starts with the tread of regretful soles along the streams where the northern birch drink the day and point the way through the pass passed by … Continue reading journeying


for just today then let's pretend my feet have found the homeward running road weaving between heart-lands wide mind-skies just for a moment I'll imagine the weight of waiting has evaporated in the hesitant light of a newly waking sun casting my shadow before long with longing for a small spell I will dream this … Continue reading untitled