I am never going to get it Right. What I know: I hunger to connect. With the land, with people. Is there a different way to visit another universe? I hunger for wildness. And so I pause to walk the length of my gravel driveway … Continue reading Prayer Life on the Mountain, August 2021
As we pulled out of the driveway on Friday, a doe lay on the side of the road next to our mailbox. Her body stretched out on her right side, as if she chose to rest on this particular bed of pine needles. Only, her … Continue reading Directions to My Home
Wake up! Wiggle the parts of your body still working Stare out the window, Inhale Let your body cut loose – the burps, the pees, all the what-have-yous Exhale Open your window and fill your lungs Breathe in the scent of your animal home Laugh … Continue reading How to Miracle
There’s a shift I’m beginning to notice. My intention in making my home on one of your mountains was to fall in love in a new way – to see with new eyes. You’ve heard me say I can stare at your trees for hours … Continue reading Dear Arkansas,
I think I may need to unfriend my country Or begin cussing online Maybe hurl my bras off a cliff, toss the razor And just live in the nude on this mountaintop I may need to slice a watermelon and bite into that sweet … Continue reading Unexpected Growth
I am weary of my worn out sentences that begin with “I” – those crutches I lean on while the voice of an old writing instructor lets slip from the corner of her mouth, a grimace – her clear indication of disappointment, and perhaps this … Continue reading Rock-Making
I wrote the sentence, Petit Jean feels like Home; Montana is my best friend. And then, talking with a friend, we wondered about the truthfulness of this statement – if there is a word for being rooted in multiple places. Even the trees outside Goodwill … Continue reading Procrastipoem #6 (While Packing)
We make our home on the mountain Alongside those who make their home Between the branches and the twigs dangling midair Their silky shelters are the shape of impermanence and plenty Vultures are the poets here Hickory nuts write letters on the land I … Continue reading Family Relations
Arkansas carves a daily ache Greeted by a fat skink scuffling below a sweetgum A tick burrows into my foot and Constellations bloom across my skin All this unarranged communal intimacy All my friends feel like lovers Even Trombicula autumnalis Maybe it … Continue reading Daily Ache
What a joy it is to find a permanent home for my essay about the intertwining thresholds of place, identity, and marriage. Thank you, Arkansas Review!
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