Jellyfish

“Do it again,”  the kids yell.  They crowd around as my husband leans over the side of the dock and traces his hand through the water.  Flashes of green spark in the water.  We all bend toward the water and splash our fingers, making trails of color in the dark. “Bioluminescence,” my husband says and…

Unravel

I awoke to unravel.  The word.  The verb.  I don’t know why.  I listen to my heart beat. Listen to the seemingly endless thud, thud, thud. It pauses and flutters and then as if I hit refresh, continues to bump along. I guess many things would unravel should the beat fail. Unravel, as in fail….

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 loam of their rotted bodies.  I need to cart these to the garden.   I’m trying.  The trees are tightly spaced, and the leaves packed hard between the tangled tree roots.  What should I do with…