through the light

there are no true blue foods
judy says blueberries are lavender purple
and i joke with Austyn saying
google are blueberries blue
who insists they are
and the internet is down
so we’ll never know
the sparkle on the snow
a kazillion rainbows
as we move on ground
through the light
along the creek
and up the hill
the cry/caw of a raven
out by the swinging bridge
again and again we pause
to listen

the thin line of light
on the western horizon
in an otherwise inkyblueblack sky
reminds me of nights
on the mesa
as seen from the dusty walk
from house to outhouse


two owls in different time zones
staring up at the same moon

made of blue

the morning made of blue,
so much blue,
and coyote howls coming from the east
and the endless sparkle of the
new snow laid down last night
stretching out before me
in every direction


walking with the wild
as i go
laying down boot prints
next to the trail of canine prints
side by side

free spirit Stacey says
and i think about how i owe some of that lightness
to parents who did their best
to short circuit the cycles
that their parents spun them in

impossibly synchronized

the internet out
my phone telling me it needs to be it needs to be reconfigured
how instantly distant
everything seems to be
two ravens
dancing in the sky
over me
amongst all the day’s gray
impossibly synchronized
in their dips and twirls
drafting each other
beak to tail

want what you have Kristen says
while we talk about work and tenure and
living in the weird places
because it’s the weird places that have jobs

for everyone you love

the mini Berkey surprise
awaiting me
in all its shiney fine-crafted stainless steel glory
you get berkeys
for everyone you love
i say

to juniper


me facing east while many miles away,
juniper faces west
at the same time
as we cycle through the morning joint stretches
also referred to as wiggling

my first solo walk
in the great expanse
land of juniper and sage and chamisa (rabbitbrush) and aspen and
cougars and bobcats and bears and moose and antelope and coyote
how i make a habit
of swinging around in a circle
every now and then
to get a 360 to make sure
no one
is hunting me
from behind
first judy is talking cadavers
and then i say
how i would be honored
to be eaten
by a cougar or bear or
on the one condition
that the cougar or bear or… wouldn’t get killed
for eating me
not that death is my wish
and sure as hell, i’d be terrified
and i’d do all the survival things
as best i could
but just saying
it would be an honor
to be food
for the wild
which Austyn was just saying
now accounts for only 2 per cent
of the earth’s biomass


from the water world:

An Afghan man pushes a wheelbarrow as he carries water cans during the snowfall in Kabul. -The Telegraph
Credit: Wakil Koshar/AFP/Getty Images – the telegraph

A fire rescue ship spraying water towards the burnign oil tanker ‘Aulac Fortune’ off the coast in southern Hong Kong. At least one person has died after the oil tanker was set ablaze police said, as smoke billowed into the air. – The Telegraph
credit: Hong Kong Government Flying Service/AP



snowshoes in our hands

the white butts
of the three antelope bounding off up into the
juniper-dotted hills
as Sam and Austyn and Kristen and I
make our way along the creek,
snowshoes in our hands
the technique of stepping into the snowshoe tracks
that Austyn, just ahead of me, leaves
and how difficult it is to undo them, snowsealed
and the switchover point on the hanging bridge


like a pink desk
like stationary that says stay magic in rainbow luminescent colors
like thermal silks to keep me cozy,
a box from texas with my name on it arrives,
organic grapefruit and oranges tucked in the nest inside

the crisp fillets
of breaded fish
served alongside
homemade tartar sauce
served alongside
the most beautiful salad yet
served alongside Judy’s slushee margaritas
it feels celebratory, like a saturday night
on a thursday
no one cut a moon
so sickled and bright
like tonights’
mountainblue ink sky
speckled with surrounding stars

it is medicine, this kind of quiet

it is medicine
this kind of quiet
the quietest quiet
only found
in deserty lands
at high elevations

the stillest

sam and i
smashing one juniper berry each
between nails/fingers
not long before she notices

the odd cyanotype-blue rounded thing
perched atop a boulder
we get closer to find
it is indeed a rock
painted blue
the two tiny mice
trapped in what appears to be a live trap
with so much dead stuff in it
(in other words, caught and never released)
the lid opened,
they scuttle off
the sharp and curved luminous blade
of moon
stinging bright
in blueblacksoup
of sky
i’m drunk on the stars tonight i text
wish i could show you

judy laying out her retirement plan
(necessary because her social security
won’t pay for shit)
which involves getting caught for some white collar crime
so she can spend time in the kind of jail
that martha stewart went to
they’ll give me pencils, right she says
but somehow, we come around to plan B:
judy becoming a tattoo artist (at age 70something or 60something)
and maybe even a psychic/intuitive tattoo artist
the name of the shop: judy’s tramp stamps and more
which would also make a good band name: judy and the tramp stamps
from the water world:

An oil tanker is on fire near Lamma island, Hong Kong, China. At least one person is dead and two are missing after an oil tanker caught fire near Lamma island. – voice of america, day in photos

awakening to the view

awakening to the view:
the thin scrim of drifty snow
in strong winds that turn everything
just a bit fuzzy
or smudged

the row of death icicles
shining and pointy
against the blue blue sky
hanging from the row of artist studios
that kind of bright sun
that dazzles everything
when it finally breaks through
the fast moving clouds before it
ducks behind them again

ground blizzard Sharon says
and discourages Austyn
from driving to town in it
saying the visibility in these things
becomes almost zero
and the blowing snow can turn the roads
icy slick,
meanwhile the weather app
sends a warning
for a thing called a snow squall
and i think about getting to know a place/region
through its meteorological phenomena
and its corresponding lingo

for lunch:
pasta salad
plus a sandwhich making spread involving
fresh bread,
slices of cheese and turkey
egg salad
tuna salad
lettuce grown in the greenhouse
plus some oniony soup possibly with beef
for dinner:
glazed carrots
some kind of stuffed potato w bacon
beautifully arranged salad