Oh Lana Turner, we love you get up!                                   &n

But it was these solemn lessons which succeeded those – the bedroom had changed and I was to lie a long way off. I rambled over a hundred years run together through the trim grass-plot, and was reminded I was now a rich man’s sister

The evening starts around fire (lilies swaying, basil holding sun) and turns to stars that one! at the end of the driveway above the pine what is it, that string of lights? some stars you find by the swing of an elbow some on the downsweep of a ha

in Maine rainsbefore the hurricane I've lost count of things vanishingbehind waterfalls before soft storms and age old breaths from the seathe pulse of earthworks rises up on calls of plovers, a constantinviting, this world and its small houses