Just

Early morning, With the sun just risen over the horizon, And the sky tinted a faint blue-grey: This is the best time to be awake. With the air just cool, but not yet turned To cold And the birds, Who haven't yet fled, Singing This is the best time The trees Their leaves just turned … Continue reading Just →

The Mountain

I started today writing a story — and then a song came into my head, and I decided to try to write that out instead. It's not perfect, and I don't know that it's finished, and I can't show you what it sounds like, but here are the words nevertheless. I’ve been wand’rin’ up the … Continue reading The Mountain →

But

Sometimes I think I’ll just but wait maybe I’ll but this is right in front of me it needs doing. I should do this. Look I’m doing it. I’m getting it done and What happened? How is it twenty minutes later? Why did I even do those other things Where did they come from? Okay … Continue reading But →

Power

There are those who fear being the blade, For when they see its edge, They fear the cuts it can make upon the flesh. They see only that it separates, That by its nature, it defies union; That it is harm given form. There are those who fear becoming lightning, For when they see its … Continue reading Power →

Grown

Beneath the branches of the apple tree, with the sunlight streaming down in golden ribbons and the roots knuckling into my back through the soft grass, I think, When did the tree grow? I remember it, small, just a few leaves on the end of a twig. I remember it, taller, up to my shoulder … Continue reading Grown →

Obsidian

A piece of obsidian, chipped away: Is it broken, or has it become a knife? The flakes, no longer attached: Are they part of One Whole — discarded — or have they become their own?

Rain

Tell me, Does the wind whisper, or do the trees? Does the fire crackle, or do the logs? Does the rain fall, or do the clouds break? Unable to hold themselves up Unable to find the strength to continue existing Too weak to stay themselves So they dissolve, they dissipate, and become something else — … Continue reading Rain →

Heavy

Sometimes, he felt like his heart was too heavy. Like, when he set it down, picking it up again became almost impossible He wished that it weighed less — that, like others that he knew, it cost him nothing to put it somewhere or leave it there, or get it back again. Those people with … Continue reading Heavy →

Pyrophile

Nina's fear of fire became something much worse.