Category Archives: sunrise

Heat Sentence

Posted on July 3, 2015 by Jim Stewart

Heat creeps, ready to pounce, cook us to fork done, until night licks our bones, gleaming in the moonlight. (top: en.wikipedia.org; bottom: ask.com)

Posted in Oregon, Summer, Sun, sunrise, Too hot | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

Haiku–Arc of Horizon

Posted on May 8, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Morning bends the sun to the task of finding a way to dark of night. It seems always to be uphill to the western arc of horizon. I feel the edge rise; thank goodness for gravity; I’d fall to the sky. … Continue reading →

Posted in Haiku, Morning, Poem, sunrise | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

Birthing a Day

Posted on May 7, 2014 by Jim Stewart

You can hear the ocean early in the morning from here, this house hunkered on the hill, the back side of Soledad Mountain. Mexico is way out there and the lights of downtown muted by salt air rising from Mission … Continue reading →

Posted in Consciousness, Conversation, Humans, Poem, sunrise | Tagged , , , | 7 Comments

Double Haiku–A Nail from the Heart

Posted on January 29, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Swept away by brooms intent on dusting heart beats; memories let go. Guitars are only hammers on sublime old nails; questions seeking light. (from eorthe.tumblr.com by Vic de Vera)

Posted in Haiku, memory, Moon, Morning, Music, sunrise | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Heating Air

Posted on November 29, 2013 by Jim Stewart

Before the sun crests the Cascades and spills into the valley where the river surges north, I’m out walking, arms rhythmically swinging like the gates on a furnace sucking air. A crow on a fence cocks his head and caws, … Continue reading →

Posted in Poem, Slice of Life, Speculative Fantasy, sunrise | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments