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  • Pondering

    Nothing breeds motivation like necessity.

  • Currently Reading

    “The Space Between Worlds”

    Even worthless things can become valuable once they become rare.

    Micaiah Johnson

    A captivating plot with unexpected deviations. Overall fantastic writing. Subtle, nuanced, and grounded social commentary without dwarfing the splendor of its sci-fi backdrop.

    Read if you enjoyed “Dark Matter,” “Annihilation,” and other such gripping, mind-bending stories.

  • July 4, 2025•1500

    July 4, 2025•1500

    Kenduskeag Stream Shoreline

    7.4.25 – late afternoon

    Sunshine creeps the temperature back up to the 70’s after a quick rain shower. The air dried rapidly to half weight since my morning walk. A 7 knot wind runs NW, taking a few precariously balanced things out with it. The furtive inland tide jolted me back to consciousness as it crept into the toes of my socks. The air gained freshness as I retreated to higher ground. Creeping laps of water had wafted an algal must fighting the deet clinging to the hairs of my legs.

    The high angle bridge looms over the peace of the stream. Down here my day is heady, but the rain always returns and the tide goads me away.

    Unless I feel like a swim.

  • Equinox

    Equinox

    Over the shoulder
    into dawn - 
    a bruised and battered sky. 
    Past the fallen
    teardrops of honey
    so goes the field hands' cry. 

    Through cedar boughs
    melting off entoiling ice - 
    a freshly minted leave.
    In a turning corner,
    past their gate
    the smokehouse grants reprieve. 

    Warm smoke trails,
    "what's done is done,"
    brow's glistening white beads.
    Never again, 

    someday.
    Someday 
    sighs and heaves.

    Earlier version ↴

  • I am Solstice

    I am Solstice

    I am the only thing I’ve ever feared - 
    the force that moves, 
    the enemy that doesn’t. 
    We are Gemini. 
    No bang, no whimpers 
    just birthdays 
    on either edge 
    of the map. 
    Take a bath 
    in a glacier's fresh melt 
    you'll notice the drowning 
    kills you last. 

    Silence 

    in a moment of peace. 
    One minute, 
    one day, 
    one week, 
    same sudsy clawfoot.
    Not the suffocation
    of an airless climb.  
    Not the starvation
    of white pine standing proud,
    rooting through brackish cracks. 
    Not the dehydration
    from walking too far
    and never enough. 
    Hey, 
    let's be friends.
    • I am Solstice
    • I am the only thing I’ve ever feared –
    • the force that moves, the enemy that doesn’t.
  • Reiff

    Reiff

    Viola, you poor, 
    indentured thing. 
    When they say 
    100% cranberry, 
    they **mean** it! 
    A chalk so bitter, 
    the pavement spit it back. 
    Or was that line drawn 
    in sand? 
    No sense,  
    no strings to attach. 
    Look, 
    and you'll nearly always 
    find 
    options for insanity.

    A revision

  • As Always, A Privilege

    A reworking

    They held modesty
    in the threads 
    of their shirts - 
    pretense in laces
    of humble shoes. 
    While gems dripped
    from their mouths. 
    Their scraps 
    could buy 
    a thousand words,
    your daily bread, 
    but would cost you
    your life.

  • five whole minutes

    A reworking


    My esophagus burns.
    It was 
    five whole minutes ago
    I was talking to you
    then five whole years
    as soon as we’re off the phone.

    The most confused 
    color yellow -
    languished -
    clambering switchbacks, 
    for its place
    on your dress…

  • Plunge

    A reworking 

    Her voice is the background music: 
    The pleasant sip of sunshine 
    you get from 
    a remainder, 
    dividing potential by 
    habit. 
    Crisp and loving, but better 
    left behind 
    after falling  
    from your chair laughing.  
    Jumping in beside her, 
    finding 
    a difference of 
    10 degrees. 
    There's plenty more cliffs, 
    I just really liked that one.

  • Right Now Ago

    A reworking 

    If it doesn’t rip me to shreds, 
    I don’t want it. 
    Jaw dropping love 
    all tired and sore, 
    chests heaving 
    with exasperated brilliance. 
    Where do I find the energy? 
    In snooze fests 
    around a warm, 
    gentle lake 
    algae in full bloom. 
    What fun is that?