There are rumors of water. And Time winds down hidden hallways, sips tea with feathered memories and eats bagels with Imagination who sees beyond what is to what can be in gaping holes and medieval laundry baskets and berry-colored bottles. In time, Time whispers words and songs that rise in some kind of prayer […]
It’s the Climb
We called it a salt lick, the stand in the woods behind our house. I never saw salt, and I never saw deer licking it. But it made a great platform to climb up on and belt out words to a standing-room-only crowd. This audience swayed to the melodies, whispered their appreciation, and clapped […]
In Which I Cultivate My Wild Side–Or Not
Someone landed on my blog the other day when they searched for “Hoosier cabinet.” I doubt they found what they were looking for. That short little post was written in response to L.L. Barkat’s suggested writing exercise from God in the Yard to play with words. In the section on “Habits” from her newest book, Rumors […]
I’m Afraid to Read Ann Voskamp
“What are you hiding?” She asked. I stared at her. “What do you mean?” (It probably really came out like “Whaddayamean?”) I’d been transcribing reports for Heidi, a rehabilitation nurse, for several months. “I tell you about my family, stuff I’m doing, but you never tell me anything about you. It’s like you’re in the […]
When the F-Word’s Caught in a Web
I play the word game puzzle letters in bits and pieces lose scraps in dusty corners and the F-word’s caught in a web. So I plant potatoes in my bed, chase gophers in the garden, do battle with aliens, and have tea with a purple moth. Wait until it all comes around and a […]
Of Beans and Sawdust and Kitchen Floors
I let go of a piece of perfection. I wash my kitchen floor. I don’t know when I last washed it. How is that letting go of perfection? Because I tend to let the scrubbing go until I can plant my knees on this mat. Until I can do it up perfect. So I tend […]
First Make the Sounds
The seagull–he no longer screams, “Mine!” He makes no sound at all. I can feel the song inside him, but it’s broken. I squeeze, but he only creaks, and I don’t see a way to fix him. I can’t find a battery opening. He’s a bit like me. My song feels broken, and my words […]
Chasing Flickers
I see them looking down from their perches. They’re talking to each other. “There are rumors of black oil, but those cylinders are running on empty.” I scoop seed from the bin and replenish the feeders. I’m distracted by a flicker on a nearby branch, so I hurry inside and come back with the […]
