Bouquet

I was sitting at home not feeling well, so John brought me a wonderful, strange bouquet – a couple tiger lilies, three pink carnations, two small sunflowers, a dozen yellow daisies, and five miniature orange roses. In my woozy state, I watched the colors whirl together, and I remembered science class in some elementary grade…

Forest

The slim forest feels like my link to the earth. Sometimes I stand on a stump and pretend I’m Emerson, a little teary-eyed. I stretch my arms out, lift my chin, close my eyes and imagine I am a transparent eyeball through which the force and knowledge of the universe flow unchanged. I am part…

Splash

After a good rain, the little falls at Yuko En will splash right up on you if you get down close. Closer, and you’re sliding toward the blue and gold light, the rising mist, the planes of crystal glare. From the edge of the sidewall your feet hit the falling water, the force pushing against…

Kleenex

There’s an apple on the table, and papers, and as I’m trying to work I notice that the box of Kleenex is beautiful. The proportions, height to width. The crispness of the edges, the swirl of colors, the strength of the thin, airy tissue reaching up. I notice how the light gathers and fades, soft…

Country Road

Names of roads around here are evocative: Long Lick, Stamping Ground, Sulphur Wells, East Honaker, J.B. Lear, Burton, Glass, Lloyd, Skinnersburg, Josephine, Indian Creek, Pokeberry. I imagine a story in each of the names, and as I cruise along one and another road a little country world takes shape, and the stories grow day by…

Hello Yellow Brick Road

I walk the path through the little forest all the time. The dogs criss-cross, proudly treeing squirrels. Cows graze just over the ridge. I am so close to this place I can change it with my mind, round bends to walnuts and elms lit up with blues from my eyes. Some days, when the wind…

White Flower: Minimalist

I should pity the white flower. Even a pansy adds color to the world. The common mugwort, too. The bittersweet nightshade. What life does the giraffe with a short neck live? The whippoorwill with a soft voice? I suppose the white flower is a flower in this minimal way, a subtle presence in the whoosh…

ROM: VARIATIONS

ROYAL ONTARIO MUSEUM, TORONTO Five intersecting crystals crash into Bloor Street, and people walk by as if nothing has happened. The chaos of angles and grids, the canted planes, the force with which the perfect shapes enter the earth . . . these are not from our world. I stand and look at the impossibility…

Blaze

“Get the furniture!” Chris says. The bonfire is wide and tall. Two guys head over to the side of the carriage house and grab the two-seated rocker, rustic, mountain made. It starts to twist apart as they carry it. “You sure?” “Don’t ask her!” The two swing the rocker back and then up over the…

Rock and Roll

The plaza, the pyramid, the escalators—the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame wants to be important. Inside, visitors pass each other awkwardly, riding up and down. The view from the café across the tubular trusses to the gift shop below is dramatic. The costumes of living and dead inductees hang next to each other on…