Day starts with chirps, O’ robins! The mumble of a towhee, impossible tune of a sparrow. Now these word wranglings close in as if it is January, cold and dark. * * *

some say it’s the worst day of the year but we can hear the rain * * *

Rain hard enough to knock moss from the trees. A nap interrupted by clattering drops. * * *

We remember it differently. Who was in the house. Who wasn’t. The shape of the tree in later summer, whether the coffee was strong enough. Whether spirits drifted or were lifted. * * *

The arborio rice soaks up and changes. Hot water and soy milk move through hard cell walls. Glistening bubbled silk is unmasked by salt tears, a chemical reaction not unlike family reunions. This new cooking technique undercuts all those confections … Continue reading →

That wolf moon? Leering over the eastern pines? Whimpered this morning, called me from tussled sheets, a mess of dreams tossed at his whine, begging for more than I could give. * * * Still writing stones. * * *