Fall 2016 Edition
For all the talk of warmth and rebirth, spring is a really ugly season. Trails turn to mud pits and roads to rivers as the thaw begins to take hold, and the brown carcasses of what was left at the end of fall begin to reappear. The ground cover is a layer of partially decayed leaves, and all the damage the winter did is slowly revealed.
White Wind / Frozen layering like ice sheets, / Yet wicked and swift, / It carves and scours its path.
Arcturus / Leader of the lucida in their nightly procession, / The key: receiver of lightning
Eurydice didn’t look quite so lost yesterday / as I passed the sculpture garden on the way to class.
An ice footprint stays / long after maker is gone / snowfall soon obscures.
Sometimes someone will drown in another part of the river and I can’t help, because the river is large and I am only one person.
The secondary rain shower / trickles from the leaves of the honey locust
Spring 2016 Edition
wispy thoughts drift / across the dome of the sky / as I lay here / supported on the warm earth / in the stillness of the / wind
“Many of us would say that we are conscious of our daily activity even though we are not actively watching ourselves executing these actions”
"I pause here only to gather my thoughts, but I am surprised at how much I have already observed."
Staring at blank faces while I speak / they’re like walls, plain and blank and even without interest; / now I’m frustrated and careless but flabbergasted nonetheless / as my tone it gets higher, the pace, it gets faster
I am content to know/ The protecting embrace of a maple/ Shielding me/ From harsh January winds/
After the Ides of March, four hundred / thousand pure casualties. / Darkness stole the glossy white pearl / Icy tundra untainted, solitary.
“What is it about our need to tell stories, to leave a relic of our voice behind for the world? We speak, but sounds dissipate into the air, ephemeral as our own lives.”
You ARE a moment/ you are a mystery/ blooming into infinity
I've never seen a dodo bird in the flesh. / I poke my skin in genetics laboratory. / And I'm not proud of my address / in Centennial Hall; / I've got Westcott envy.