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Wild Oat (avena barbata)

Sliding my fingers along the stalk,                                                        Digging into the water, pushing each teardrop, feather light pod                                                        forward, a boat full with divers pinpricks my hand. Stripping oat stems bare,                                                        excited for the dive, loosening rope sleek, singing. Low gold rushed hills                                                        tied… Read More »Wild Oat (avena barbata)

Why Though

Written as a keynote for the Mendocino Coast Writers’ Conference, August 2020 I’m going to get right to it: why write, anyway? What’s the point when we are dying? This is the only starting point… Read More »Why Though

The Rules

The spiral on a spiral notebook’s sharp enoughto pop a water-wing. When the nurse unwound it my whole life fell out of order. Is it such a crime to cry in a swimming pool? Do… Read More »The Rules