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Fall Haiku

Faded, fluttering, falling; the wet driveway holds fast to my eye, true color. (photo courtesy of photography.nationalgeographic.com)

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When That Gregorian Calendar Rolls Over

This time of year the anesthetic wears off and the nerves around your heart fray into syncopated buzzing lights that remind you of how the way you want to be differs from the way you are. The Accountant opens the … Continue reading

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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 Place Where I Live

The road I live on in Southwest Portland (Oregon) follows a path of least resistance. In the afternoon, as you wind up the hill, the sun may be to your right. The next time it appears through the trees, it … Continue reading

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