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Witnesses
a collection of moments: nothing grand or forced. just soft, slightly askew truths of ordinary days — witnessed 21 March 2026, 07:34 I.a sparrow slipsinto the colour of barknothing left movingI look where it disappearedand cannot find it again. II.late morning lightwe stand where we can be seen,faces turned outward.Once, even we knew how todisappear…
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Witnesses
a collection of moments: nothing grand or forced. just soft, slightly askew truths of ordinary days — witnessed 20 March 2026, 09:17 I.a candle for hera candle for hima finger pressed in soil fertility in a seed sownon this day of bonfires. II.Ôstara morning light burns from our flames.warmth in the soilthe seed takes what…
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2003: Journal of Thoughts
El Capitan’s Lesson I came to you from the east,from Mono Lake’s dead and living watertangled with krilland seagulls by the million.A lake that does not know it’s dead. And the sun, that old familiar,washed your coarse-grain granitewith the same brightnessit has washed for hundreds of millions of years. Same colour. Same dip into darkness.Same.Again.Again.Centuries…
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Witnesses
a collection of moments: nothing grand or forced. just soft, slightly askew truths of ordinary days — witnessed 19.03.26, 11:46 eve before equinoxwe keep to winter’s last breath,palms in cooling soil.no fire, not yet. in the fieldthe hare lifts its head, listening. Happy Ostara to all who celebrate it. © MB 2026
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Witnesses
a collection of moments: nothing grand, nothing forced. just soft, slightly askew truths of ordinary days — witnessed 18.03.26, 11:28 windows left ajarthe smell of soap and wet soildrifting through the street. first warm day of springcars washed, gardens speaking back,doors open at last.the doctor’s wife tells me:he died there, weeks ago. © MB 2026
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1603: Six Sentence Story
Brigid’s Diary, 1834, What the River Knows Episode III – Lyon, The Confluence At the meeting of the Saône and the Rhône rivers, the surface agreed while the bodies argued, currents swinging between quarrel and agreement, each teaching the other a deeper way to move. It spoke without lifting its voice, smooth as glass where…
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1603: Journal of SenHai
Senryucenturies watchingstill the mountain greets the sunas if the first time Haikufirst light on granitenight loosens its quiet gripthe valley exhales Written for SenHai Saturday #43. ©Misky 2006-2026.
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1603: The Liturgy
Liturgy for the Confluence of All Things(for Lyon, where the rivers join and the age does not) I. The Place Where Waters Meet Here the Saône loosens its dark bodyinto the clearer Rhône. No treaty.No argument. Brown water takes green.Green water takes brown. They braid,shoulder to shoulder,and go on. Brigid watches the seamwhere difference disappears.…
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The Old Woman’s Wisdom Delivery Service The old woman stirs her morning tea,and tucks a bit of this too shall passinto her apron pocket,next to a stray raisinthat might be hopeor might be breakfast. Her entire philosophycould fit on the head of a pin,(if the pin was slightly bent)and smelled faintly of orange marmaladeand mothballs.…
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1403: Spring Thoughts
The blues bow their heads.The yellows shiver.Purple crocuses tighten. They do not know the wind is turning,do not feel North’s cold bladeat their throat. “Of course they don’t know,”says the crow from his bare March branch,“they believe in tomorrow.That’s what makes them flowers.” Some images are a collaboration with Midjourney; all writing is my own…
It's Still Life 