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Snakes
My mother never liked snakes.Once, I saw her shoot two black snakes right out of a tree–they were writhingand weaving together in the branches,hanging entwined making love–but she was not fooling around. Another time,she emptied a pistol into onethat had the misfortuneof wandering through her yard–five shots out of six on target–and then she grabbed…
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Sinking
I close my eyes and lie back, float slowly down into a sea of you, your arms, your body wrapping around me like waves pulling me in, enveloping me in a quiet, peaceful death, like home, like comfort, weightless, silent but for a heartbeat. I sink into you until we can’t be told one from…
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Slantwise
November always has me thinking of mortality–mine, yes, and that of all that lives– the withering, the drying, the slowing down until the eventual ceasing. But that blaze of slantwise light setting the maples aflame just before dinner– the bears filling up before slumber, the tiny wild creatures stockpiling acorns before the ground freezes over–…
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On a November Evening
The brilliance of November at dusk! Hilltops lit up like a box of flaming matchsticks, burning brightly beneath rose-gold and lavender clouds. I hope my dying is like a November evening, wrapped in a cozy, fiery glow, celebrating in quiet exaltation the apex of life. As my season of frozen, silent stillness approaches (for death…
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