Blather
Cooking for Guys
Live to Camp
Camp to Live
Poetry
and Other Lies
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Damp
Damp The clouds have come right down to the ground, enveloping me It is not raining, but I can feel the water particles brushing against my skin with their cold, damp touch
November 9th
November 9th The stars shine in bright defiance of the waning half moon Behind me and to the west the lunatic yipping of coyotes echos A farm dog standing sentry barks and the pack falls silent Frost sparkles on the ground yesterday’s storm has blown...
Early November
Light breeze from the southeast sends golden leaves sailing by one at a time
Lit 101
I had a professor in my freshman literature course who was obsessed with Christian symbolism. Scarred by a Catholic education, he looked for it in everything, from Franz Kafka to used car advertisements. Raised in the Episcopal Church, I sympathized with his biases. ...
Chanterelles
The sun filters through the tall trees Like light through a loosely woven tapestry The woods are damp with recent rain Filled with the earthy, spicy smell Of fresh mushrooms emerging from the moss
