From pieces

09.01.2017

there was an eclipse. there she’d love to have seen it one time there was one. up here the world fell dead silent. the light went even paler when she thinks of not looking into the blue of those blue eyes ever again she recall that quietness such prolonged fear of loss. then the loss  that frees the gaze for shifting 

07.16.2017

girl with no daddy, is a barn with no walls   girl without daddy, is a barn without doors   girls without  dads are barns without openings   barns without daddies are girls with no openings     an opening with a girl without daddy is no —   girls with barns are openings without daddies  

04.09.2017

april is the sweetest month! anemones’ rise. as foetuses in acidic soil. pale greetings withstand a winters’ grieve paws or hooves. or hearts make way flavouring buds and shoots a blind recurring grace

01.09.2017

vipperne mod huden. hurtigt. ned/op igen i én bevægelse berøring/af fravær — den mest præcise afstand, til dine døde septembermorgenen i dis solen tung og hvid/hæver sig rødkløver i vasen/fra jorden — det sidste slægtsbånd/i live

12.20.2016

at least six lapland longspurs mixed in with thousands of horned larks easily found by listening for their distinct rattle calls also a single white pelican today. it crossed in low (less than 100 feet away), gained elevation and headed west

12.07.2016

— are you happy? — will you be warm enough?   your skin and your freckles and your fur and eyelashes, all under. for a split second, the rebirth in catching your breath again high tide. 39,2 °f crushed shells from the seagulls. scattered on wooden planks pay attention to not cut your bare feet when you get up out of the water    

11.21.2016

we ended up lavished. seeing birds that were new to us gila woodpecker, cactus wren and the rosy-faced lovebird but we enjoyed seeing others too. familiar and the milky-way; a backbone bonfire with sparks filling the sky on our way south all the blessed hours. tracing sweetness home the ordinary years of cold. dew. drifting seagulls. origin left behind a veil of distance [flares up or melt] a fledging heart

10.07.2016

in this thick fall wind  that pushes on the highrise/building with big shoulders — as a bison leaning  to scratch an itch  before the crisp of frost will clear the air. make all blue bluer, and bodies quiet there’s a bee still on it’s wings. swimming upwards  on currents. dancing drowsy between gusts              making it’s way home graceful             as the daylight. turns to honey

09.01.2016

— around 5:00 this morning one black-billed was still present, although it proved to be very difficult to find. spent over two hours looking for it and only saw it once, but it is in the area. seemed to be staying close to nashville warblers. this is the first day of fall