browsing archive: featuredwriting2

I dance like that cherry tree branch where midday lingers. I want to touch the wind, turn blue when the rain dies

North Along Dalton Highway Milemarker 115 A man in salmon wears strung bone. When he walks, he eddies dust. Fossil-crusted, all gravel.

Tidal Pull So many creatures meeting on this beach, the air is thick and filled with tiny deaths. Things that lived much

The year I lived on the beaches of Fort Lauderdale, in January, the city council issued a warning: beware of frozen iguanas

A trickling cascade of kombucha               with its twanging like tart wine settles in a crystal cup, 

—for Gray St. Germain Gideon, 1984-2014 It’s these ancestral mountains, massive as grief, that dominate, sharp, angular, .............fragments .........................jutting out like fingers

Let’s hear it for the bear. Not some mythical beast, but Ursus arctos horribilis. Americans love the grizzly bear to death and

Henry and his grandfather, Almer, had started out before dawn, parked at the end of a dirt service road on the Blue

We are hunters, my siblings and I. It’s early morning, and a film of mist papers the air, which insects unzip with

1. On a hilltop I sit hugging my knees, watching the Mekong as it courses below, dividing the Golden Triangle into its