I Knew You Then (IV)

Eventually, for those who return to gravity’s hold, the echoes stop stirring, the vertigo allays, the disorientation becomes unfamiliar, and the world and space they once left returns to its familiar comfort. What is left is the memory of existing, for a finite moment, in a completely different reality. It is the kind of memory that sometimes weaves itself into dreams, sometimes forces wandering thoughts to recall the splendor of the experience, and is sometimes the revelry that ends a day.  The walls begin to collapse outward, the barren lights which create the shadows, the fans which conjure the breezes, […]

Ghosts and Distance

From the small patch of earth, the one with an orange tree, black sage shrubs, the still growing avocado plant that will someday become a tree, the handful of succulents, and the slab of concrete on which he stands, he looks up to the darkened sky with the pin dots of light and time. He looks off past the scattered cloud bodies, reaching out amidst the streaks of light across the aqueous blue, through nebulae and broken bits of satellites and rocket ships still floating in the vacuum, still containing the ghosts of sputnik 1 & 2, the dulled barking […]

Leaves Turning

So many leaves have turned over, abandoning the cradle  where they were first awakened by the soft caress of the morning breeze against the remaining dew- Earth’s nightly renewal,  where they were taught the steps of the wind’s whispers and danced against light’s refraction; gently they’ve loosened their dependency,  letting go their hold on verdant hues  and have solemnly accepted the less vibrant tones of winter,  inviting gravity to lead them.  So many breaths exhausted to Earth’s persistent rotating, to the sun drenched rising of one more finite presence.