wild dogs, tame dogs

after a lifetime of poor circulation and cold extremities, i have reached that age when my body has turned into a furnace that burns around the clock. i used to sleep with a heavy duvet piled up around my head during the dog days of summer. these days, i sleep with my window cracked open … Continue reading wild dogs, tame dogs

the spindle

long skeins run north to southin heather strands of greywith flecks of white and black spun inknitting winter from the windsblending soft angora flakes of snowwith rugged red and chestnut woolto craft a fabric that wraps the worldin somnolent silencethe seed of summer lies quieta small death that will spin backward come april when thelong … Continue reading the spindle