Posts Tagged ‘audio’

Pure freedom like fermented grape-intoxicated sparrows celebrating the night rhythmic, unpredictable, wild how much lon…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:   Username or E-mail Password Remember Me     Forgot Password

is like a secret lover acrobatic enough to give old man heart attack, deliciously fresh out of sea with basil on barbe…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

I am still here: caught in the quiet of the land. You can find me as easily as the creek finds its way downhill trave…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

Sitting in the mouth of the shelter, looking out at the sagebrush plain, the shallow lake, the far mountain wall, you …   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

Always the rain turns around us A great wheel, west to north, then east to south Keeping to the mountains, blurring the…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

Once we were having mass in a yurt on a hill above the sea. This was after a storm, and through the wavy plastic window…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

volcanic elbows poke through yellow earth juniper trees flame green grassy slopes fade blue mountains loom clouds sag …   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

Oh faux February spring, don’t end. Thank you for trying. Thank you for daphne’s unfolding perfume, daffodils’ yellow d…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

I remember the pattern of it. The greater seasons. The warmth of a stove, radiating against the chill of pervasive mist…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

Southeast of La Pine distances become real. Miles caged too long in forests on curvy mountain roads step out of the sha…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

I sit by the open window in the Tea House. Fragrant steam from my cup of ginger tea warms me. Outside, the rain has sto…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

My first week after moving to Portland, my son insists we go to this park that, he says, used to be a highway until th…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

Hop fields glimpsed from rear seat windows, grandparents waving from a driveway, their Chevy smell of leather …   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below: