by Warren Gaston | Oct 10, 2022
Now there are many big things, so many very really big things. You know them. I’ll list just a few: invasive wars, nuclear options, the Florida engulfing sea, hell’s heat in Tucson, fired western forests, waterless cities, dismantling winds. So many I hesitate to pet...
by Warren Gaston | Oct 4, 2022
In the afternoon, late, you slept in the trunk of a well-rooted dream. I tore apart time looking for a memory, found it, dropped it; a fish back in water, a seed on a sidewalk. During supper, we forgot what we were after, some kind of history we were expected to make....
by Warren Gaston | Oct 3, 2022
At the corner, I was ten, and my dog was waiting. I whistled a trilling call. An emotional muscular eruption, my dog raced across lawns, ears flying to leap a greeting into my lexicon arms. Since then, many times greeted, an ecstatic god or friend or tree wrangling...
by Warren Gaston | Sep 29, 2022
Through childhood I thought it was God’s imperceptibly caring hand: the close calls, the car skidding to a stop before the crossing train, the ladder tipping, then righting against the wall, the snarling dog turning inches from the rambling child, the tornado...
by Warren Gaston | Sep 26, 2022
Massive necks, boulder heads, hammer hooves, robed in shag. Verging, flip-flop-tee-shirted sightseers, but for minds with words, scrawny. A ranger addresses tourists careless of the wild, stand back! Yellowstone National Park, 2014 written: 2022...
