Stories for Curious Souls
Stories for Curious Souls
Icarus, revisited: a remedial course for authoritarians As Icarus climbs high above rivered snowmelt, bald eagles spiral on sunlit blue thermals, embodying not peace or war, us or them, lose or win, but a practiced balance. In this story, Icarus…
Saw Whet This morning owl calls echoed off hemlocks a steady alarm note in search of mates. Long ago, another forest in another time knew that rasp of saw and file as bells tolling while old growth fell. To listen…
Solidarity When white fur pops into a woodpile gap I remember another ermine slink-hopping between steps then pausing, still in early autumn brown studying me while I studied them as if we both wanted to understand who stood before us,…
Use of this NASA image, copied from , does not mean that NASA endorses this poem. Image listed as courtesy Jeff Schmaltz, MODIS Land Rapid Response Team at NASA GSFC. Natural Consequences 101:a remedial course for authoritarians Volcanoes and earthquakes…
Circumstances Icy night of porcupine dreams meets solstice moving sunlit hands across mountain spines, brightening sky stretched in sundog play bow starry-cerulean rump above smoke-rose chest below. Prickly still with night shadows crescent moon winks a tooth hung over lolling…
Valuation This poem has no purpose. Instead it floats on needle-spun spider trails cast and unmet as if to honor every try. It feathers twigs out of time and beards stones without witness. Unhurried it burns at the pace of…
for Henry Exposure for Henry Loss makes time slippery, opening a shutter on a low-lit sky. When did two moose eat the garden? Before the floodwaters surged, spinning homes. Before he fell like a streaked star and exited the frame.…
OPTIONS The clothesline snapped with one antlered shake divided two frayed ends border a battlefield of moose-cropped leaves. A bull in rut is relentless like bone sleeved in itchy velvet or power influenced by money or fear censuring speech still…
Opening On the river, small moons burst with a breath, spattering in bubble pops like sparks over cauldrons of fish. Here on earth size isn’t everything but tension might be. Only open containers hold what we gather or grok. Still …
for Kris Birthrightfor Kris She cleaned the cooling bird outside the kitchen window, her deft fingers rolling the feathered skin like socks tearing the gossamer threads of connective tissue until the pale lines unfolded, steaming on a bed of damp…