Category Archives: memory

Peace and Fire

We kissed: lips groping without knowing, hands benign and trembling, timid and still. You were a gift I did not understand. I had no way to accept the strange dichotomy of peace and fire. When I moved away to California … Continue reading

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Big Rocks — Little Rocks

“Time to make little rocks out of big rocks.” Work is work. I remember: cold clouds slung low, soaking all of us, men and machines thundering through my earplugs and muffs as a thousand drummers play with wild abandon. I … Continue reading

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So Far, So Good

On this day most of a lifetime ago we stood up before family, blood-tied with freely chosen, and declared that we would live together loving each other for the rest of our lives. So far, so good.   (top: otter … Continue reading

Posted in Aging, family, Humans, memory, Poem, Time | Tagged , , , , | 5 Comments

Nightmare in Denim

(Note: this came from a nightmare I had when I was small, in Buffalo, NY. Why I still remember it as vividly as I do remains a mystery.–jrs) I cowered in my sleep unable to turn away, unable to awaken to … Continue reading

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Haiku–Recognition

Recognition flies in the face of memory; the blackbird alights. (top: bigthink.com; blackbird: allaboutbirds.org)

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A Glimpse of the Deeper

Would I know your face now? I like to think I would, but memory is an often tricky thing; I’ve known it to add and to subtract. What I know as true may not be; where I’ve been may not … Continue reading

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Haiku–Live Music

Music from the heart embraces Anacortes; salty wings we are. (My great good friend Ernie Theriot and me remembering the Gris-Gris Band.)

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Haiku–Time Eyeball

Big picture eyeball at the center of my head; now is now the past.

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Haiku–The Light in Lightness

Piles taller than me; it’s time to deal with The Stuff, creating lightness. Dredging up the past, memories only to keep; planning to move home. Thirty years hide here, scrabbling beneath profound dust. Maybe we’re crazy.

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The Rules

I have been told to never open a story with weather and I have always asked why. Does it lead to cliché? Sometimes my morning opens with weather and I move through the story of my day from that beginning. … Continue reading

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