Category Archives: Reprint

A Frog for Cheryl

(Note: This is a reprint of a poem I published years ago in Licking River Review. Not sure why, but I’ve been thinking about my long-gone friend Cheryl, who died when we were ten. The poem also appears on”) … Continue reading

Posted in Consciousness, end-of-life, memory, Poem, Reprint, Slice of Death, Wildlife | Tagged , , , , , | 3 Comments

Excerpt from The Last Salmon

(Note: this is a quick excerpt from my story The Last Salmon (first published in Rattapallax). It’s also in my collection White Ravens–And More Stories (click the link to the right).–jrs) He almost missed his turn. The flashing yellow light … Continue reading

Posted in American history, Excerpt, Reprint, Short Story, story excerpt | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments


Curtains of rain drawn against warmth and sun keep the study, brooding books framed in orange firelight, at the grey edge of darkness. I sit overstuffed in a grandfather’s chair, feet in their wool kicked up on the hearth steaming … Continue reading

Posted in Aging, American history, Oregon, Poem, Reprint, walking | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Cheyenne Woman Speaks to a Corpse from the Seventh Cavalry, During the Evening of June 25th, 1876

The Greasy Grass licks your blood from my hands. I cannot see where my own blood ends. I am breathing now the sharp air of your death. Your hair is the color of the grass, but is dead and strange. … Continue reading

Posted in American history, American Indian, Cheyenne, Lakota, Reprint | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Fallen Angels

Rhinestones on the bushes, gossamer in the trees, when you hear her call your name it drives you to your knees. The sky will build cathedrals that rise beyond your sight, the leaves will show their colors and lift you … Continue reading

Posted in Dream, Lyrics, Music, Poem, Reprint, Sex, Speculative Fantasy | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments


A hanging bicycle the sleeve of a coat the chopping block by the woodpile the woodpile a motorcycle a car with no doors an unfinished model boat car doors a pile of papers on the counter a pile of papers … Continue reading

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Personal Transport (for Robert Frost)

A steaming sip of fragrant tea rouses mornings wrapped in fog, walking beside the plumed dog across a plain of memories, calling the names of old acquaintances, some deceased, somehow puts my heart at ease and draws me back into … Continue reading

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Home, Townes

I wrote this on a night in 1997 when a good pal called me and told me that Townes Van Zandt had moved onto another dimension.   Goodbye, you old rounder. I’ll miss your gaunt sad voice singing of the … Continue reading

Posted in Music, Poem, Reprint | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

An Ashram at Wishram

Notes scatter from the bell at the top of the door. She looks up from her book to see him cowed as if the notes were shards of glass and he a hemophiliac. “Close the door,” she smiles and closes … Continue reading

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The Actress and the Grunion

She was an actress and even though I heard Wales in her voice she was as American as French-fries. I’d seen her in a play where she bested the writing to make me laugh. I lived two doors downhill to … Continue reading

Posted in Poem, Reprint | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments