Little dipping trails that lead nowhere.
Just several feet carved by footsteps
in thick green mountain grass.
A side step off the path.
To use for a bathroom, perhaps.
But then some other person did it.
Seeing the way. And another.
Until the ground was scarred.
For a short while deeply marked…
My life, in a word, is not mine. Only my hands are mine. And up along the sore-brick spine. My life, in a word, is the pain in my head. The distraction positing on top of my mind submitting. First warm-by-comparison moisture unfrozen hair lifting squinting breeze of the changing season. Of every season. Which…
I like to say I earned my masters in a garden, but truthfully, I just fell into the family pastime. After college, after majoring in English, earning my Bachelor of Arts and Certificate in Creative Writing, I moved to the family farm. And like most of these properties nowadays, there was no family to be found there. Every modern appliance and tool had been taken by relatives, still working their own plots of land nearby. The only implements left behind were the callus-inducing kind. I was stubborn. I refused to accept that…