See, honey, how your long bones lengthen, how your flat hip sends the sap down through the marrow to the square knob of knee – that’s your daddy’s leg bone: he planted the notes for that bone deep inside me on the leather couch while your brothers dreamt their own dreams and the stars […]
Gail Entrekin
GAIL ENTREKIN is a poet, editor, publisher, teacher, quilt maker and hiker. Books of her poems include John Danced (1988), You Notice the Body (1998), Change (Will Do You Good) (2005), which was nominated for the Northern California Book Award, and Rearrangement of the Invisible, (2012). Her newest collection, The Art of Healing, written with her husband, Charles Entrekin, was published in 2016.
Bodega Bay Eclogue
The rain’s been falling for weeks, Bodega Head ethereal in mist, the fishing boats almost mirages, odd arrangements of sticks like tiny black letters in the grey and yellow light, but we’ve come out, my dog and I, to walk the gravel road to the beach between the rusty marshes, green and […]
Waking Up
Cicadas fall silent, one by one. Tree frogs drop into slumber, the fog halts, pauses, begins to consider turning back over the mountain, the sun seeming to approach as we turn into its blessing. Under quilts the dream world disappears behind a closing door leaving something, some small vision, a blue scarf, an old […]
Broken
“Too many things are happening for even big hearts to hold.” Anne Sexton Broken hearts, broken bones, broken vows, promises, records, broken noses, broken dreams, broken arrows, broken bottles in the alley where the street guy throws his anger, broken oil tank on the Valdez, broken wings, broken feathers, black seas, rising seas, […]
Murmurations
“The study of murmurations is part of a larger field of study called ‘swarm intelligence’ or ‘collective animal behavior’ – the spontaneous, synchronous movement of schools of fish, herds of mammals, swarms of bees or locusts, and other animal groups. The property of a higher order arising out of seeming randomness is a phenomenon called […]
Wind
Here is the thing that nibbles at the bone you can’t recall not its name this tiny structure casting its shadow of fog moving through the tunnels of the brain making you feel in the dark for the name you were just about to grab before it snuffled away on silent feet and soon we […]
Geography of Hope Conference
Pt. Reyes Station, California March 17-19, 2017 The black-haired, olive-eyed man across the table is an Athabascan chief, I’m told, here to speak at the Conference, and a fellow guest at the home of my friends. Over breakfast our friend, an excellent host, asks, and Ilarion tells us — recites really – looking into the […]