03 11 / 2012

In the first sweeping breath of redwood + salt + eucalyptus you acutely feel the limits of your time on this earth, with these parents, with these waves crashing on these cliffs; breathe in a little deeper, and don’t take your eyes off the road.

03 11 / 2012

It was all so fragile; two years after the flood we are picnicking among the ruins.

12 10 / 2012

Before the dream, the pillowcase; before the sunset, the afternoon glaring through the plate glass.

06 10 / 2012

Lady, I am in receipt of your letter, having waited four days before slitting the envelope beneath the October sugar maples.

10 8 / 2012

I knew it when we first made wet handprints on the granite beside the fountain.

28 7 / 2012

She unrolled the tatami mat on the beach and set to work, putting down a sonnet in mirror writing.

22 7 / 2012

This gold circlet was buried in a bog before the Vikings set foot on this shore.

22 7 / 2012

A pencil sketch — a marble Diana — a forearm lightly brushing.

21 7 / 2012

The lanky redhead with Agent Cooper eyes spoke to me again last night.

10 7 / 2012

Down among the vines, the projector flickered on the wall of the house until we ran out of stories for a languorous July night.