The falling snow threatens to unhinge me. I mean in the way the creak of a floor in early morning might, or the sound of coyotes scavenging about in moon light. The way they do all night so near the house. As if they had nowhere else to go. And now this. The first dull…
Author: Life Along The River
A Cold Wind
This was no extraordinary day. An old man in a hat walked around the yard. A boy sat in a chair. Then a cold wind came down the boney back of the mountain. But what was I expecting? The cat stared out the window as wind tossed the branches about and eagles circled the chickens…
The Edge of Everything
I go to the woods, the forest, the place where trees grow. I go there to find the leaves of maple trees. The trees are tightly spaced, and the leaves packed between the tangled tree roots. What should I do with that? Make a metaphor? Pretend I know what I’m talking about? I go to the maples,…
