Poetry

Here

moonlight on leaves like snow and chime of owl from this hollow’s heart under a rib of Humpback Mountain a late-autumn wind broke its teeth against these rocks  

Sublimity

It has been experienced many times that mountain people live where they do because that is where and how they prefer to live. —A History of the Daniel Boone National Forest 1770-1970, U.S. Forest Service Somewhere along the way to being must also be belonging, because being is not an…

Walking into Winter

Death is opening the paper hearts of the milkweed, unclasping hands that held their secret all summer. Coated and mittened against November-cold, I ease along a hillside path and listen to the rustle and sift, the small talk of tall stalks in the wind:   they are shaking out their…

No Animal Afterlife

See how wholly they open to us in death, to the moon, to the red elm scabbed with mites. —Bruce Snider Of course you are imagining an afterlife for roadkill, but have you ever slowed or even stopped to look closely at a raccoon’s teeth buried in tar to the gums?