Windflower lives on the Mendocino Coast with her wife and two border collies. Her camera is a door into a journey of light and color and meditation – and a connection with the poetry in nature and her own spirit. Her work has been shown in several exhibits.Read More
How fire has a way of going viral, Faster than a post of a modern-day Lady Godiva On Facebook, and still, there are No miracle cures for the wild things. Prometheus didn’t bring Fire to this world, for mankind To set her...Read More
You’ll have someone else’s eyes, stranger. You won’t see the sparrows in my head. The world will be translucent—the light through orchid petals will break over everything: sun dyed lies. Somewhere deep and echoing like water you...Read More
I have a friend ten years younger To whom her doctor said (Yesterday, I learned) “I give you Approximately five years.” Perhaps for good behavior, it seems She will be getting out a good deal sooner than I. Perhaps foolishly, I...Read More
Perhaps you recall helping Mother hang wash on the backyard Rope line, you holding a raffia basket Piled with damp cloth. Possibly your small fist Clutching clothespins to hand her, one by one. Maybe Very many years later you...Read More
Yong Outside the compound, the wind was howling. It was too strong, too forceful, making the straw and mud compound defenseless before it. Yong curled himself into a ball to make himself warm. He had no cotton clothes nor coal,...Read More
share an experience, strike a bond, precious thing but when we practice Magic, (which includes all art) whatever bond is struck is incidental to something else. On the other hand the way we form groups is not magic, but magical...Read More
For Charlie Because I have not died by my own hand or someone else’s. Because I have a little bowl of almonds from Spain, and even with a chip in it, the bowl’s blue rim reminds me of things unbroken. And because I can eat every...Read More
I saw your birds, black arrows on the long lines, making a racket in the lot until they startled at something and flew, turned the sky to night. The other things I didn’t say could fill a pitcher the size of my heart, all those...Read More
Tiffany Is life really a matter of choice or chance? I thought about it on the ride here in my mom’s raggedy Chevy truck. Usually, I walk with my brother, but she doesn’t want her “little superstar” missing class. Mama Dukes...Read More
I carry love on my back, riding high on spine and scapula. Oh no, it’s not what you think. Love is never a burden. I am not usually bent from love’s weight. Very practically, I want love handy. There are days when I sling it...Read More
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