Category Archives: Poetry

or, Passing Through Twisp on a Snowy Evening with more than a passing nod to Frost Bound for Carlton on Mid-fall’s Day I trailed a train of cars in chains thrashing through a drifting snow. Rainy Pass had shut behind.

In memoriam: Dr. Paul Wesley Sartin February 24, 1989 – July 17, 2022

It’s a small town and still you haven’t seen her daily wanderings on the boardwalk and shoulders of Highway 20

Sex is no sin, but the regular disbursal of my indulgence may greatly accrue to the inequity of human trafficking; I am thankful for my sacred daily bread, but my excess supplies pressure to beleaguered bare tables in Burundi.

After Jedediah Smith, 1827 Are you surprised to discover that mountain men know what the various marks of punctuation mean and can string a few words together, properly spelt?

For the sixth time you asked if we knew how you fell in love with your husband but you had no problem, oddly, recalling how to win a game of Five Crowns.

after James Clyman January 1 Cloudy and warm in fact a coat has been but little needed this winter

Hugh Glass lay in a shallow grave as much to keep his body warm as quicken interment of his corpse—

after a performance by Awadagin Pratt He is a left-handed player in a right-handed world reading charts, away from left and toward the right, underscored by right-brained, right-handed composers. Even the baton which conducts is clutched in the right.

Curious is the fact that a sleeping being is altogether aware yet elects to ignore the waking world