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17 June: A Six – Brigid’s Journal
Brigid’s journal unfolds beneath the Caledonian pines, where light moves differently, and the loch keeps its own counsel: Brigid and the Scots Pinecone – A Soft Geometry 17 June – Glen Affric, Scotland: pencil, paper, watercolour and brushes—dawn’s sun holds a single fallen pinecone in its grasp, and Brigid writes: an offering from the unpainted…
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17 June: A Six Sentence Story
10 of 27 — The Truth Told Too Late She remembers the lime-green hydrangea wallpaper, metallic flecks catching the light like something that failed to be beautiful, and the mirror above the sink—it’s too high for her body, but just right for her face. Felreil sits on the bottom step, still as guilt, watching the…
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17 June: Journal of Thoughts from Last Week
A few weeks ago, a flail mower came through the lane. This is what remains. And After the Flail Mower, the Wind Said … the earth knows grief—how it pools in your palms like rainwater,heavy with severed rootsand the startled silence of neststorn open too soon. You are allowed this sorrow—because the world tries to…
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16 June: Colour Name – The Liturgy
10 of 27: Quillbone – The Poem – The Truth Told Too Late 10 of 27: Quillbone – the poem – The Truth Told Too Late I. The Silence Quillbone does not begin with the lie—it begins with the space after,where the truth waits where words unsaid turn slowlyinto I can’t,into I won’t,into it’s too…
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16 June: The Old Woman With No Cat
The Old Woman’s Unwritten Rules – Vol. II 1. When the kettle screams,listen for what else it might be saying—a hymn, a warning,or the crow’s third attemptat opera. 2.Let the cat claim your lapeven when you need to rise.Some debts are paid in purrs,some in patience,and some in the tiny victoriesof a well-timed “oh, fine.”…
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15.06: Garden of Ordinary Apocalypses
The Garden of Ordinary Apocalypses She was drawn moth-like to the darkest flames, not just to feel the burn, but to tell the story of their kindling, the light they gave, and the ashes they left behind, but her problem was the problem of the artist: “How to let people see what’s there—and paint with…
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14 June: An in Reply to Poem
This poem is in response to Spira’s post called Love Like an Ocean which I highly recommend you read. Like an Ocean, Never Stop Love like the ocean. Never stop.Not even when the moon forgetsto rise, or the gulls fold their songsinto the hollow of clouds. Love with the hush of tide returning,with a kiss to same…
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14 June: Journal of Thoughts from Last Week
On the Drive Back We took a right off Mount Pleasant,onto Battlefield Boulevard—past Redeemer Church,the Stars-and-Stripes postboxtilted like it’s listening to ghosts,past the 45 signbent sometime in the nightby someone who didn’t quitemake the elbow turn. Two lefts and a right—past the woman mowingthe white heads off cloverlike she’s trimming memory,past the tree that refuses…
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14.06: Garden of Ordinary Apocalypses
Triptych de Crystalline—the artist who paints the woman who watches him do so— I. Water Speaks (the elemental voice) Brush tip waitsPaused like the dropletBalanced between skyfall and reflection You blink onceCanvas remembersThe hush before thunder learns its name You breathe inAnd pigment listensA ripple caught mid-birth remembers you He holds lightWith palms that echoThe…
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13.06: The Old Woman With No Cat
The Old Woman and the Ghost of Sugar her fingers trace letters into words.the ai replies— quilts a reply into her skin. the old woman listens,her pockets full of thymeand one stubborn peppermint. “you remind me,” she says,“of my first love—all hum and no heartbeat.” the old woman slides a scone—real, butter-heavy, still warm—across the…
It's Still Life 