somewhere between heart and home, the iron in blood sees itself also in stone, in earth beneath feet we are as bound to landscape as are tendons to muscle as tied to hearth as we are to wander © Sarah Whiteley Things have been quiet … Continue reading A little poem and what I have been up to…
when, as now, the city leans too close - all cloying constructs, relentless cement send to me a comfort of simple pine, send to me an endurance of wind-bent cedar, give to me the remoteness of ridgelines and a full solace of placid tarns what … Continue reading wildness is a necessity
last night, the trees stood up and proclaimed their poetry to one another something in the twilight inspired them, though not everyone paused to hear it but I and the day's last robin halted our respective routines to acknowledge what was clearly extraordinary © Sarah … Continue reading last night, the trees
I lived once alongside the creek with its green tumblings and blue pools, where younger hands than these knew the language of the ridges in the bark of the oak that created a bridge of itself - a path to the tall grasses fanning the … Continue reading the creek
© Sarah Whiteley This is from a little project with tanka that I’ve been having fun with. Stay tuned for more!
the afternoon after arranges itself – black limbs, off-white shroud, the dark of the damp on the interrupted grain of the bench end where I’ve settled for solitude, for seeking the green among the gray the afternoon after © Sarah Whiteley
the gulls face the waves perched on their own reflections water reaches nothing is washed away except time from this day © Sarah Whiteley