another storm shuffles through
leaving me powerless
a robin greets dawn
to a neighbor's generator drone
greeting dawn
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greeting dawn
understone
i understone unturned
waiting for a barleymaid
to fingerpry tendril me free
an echo lingers at chasms
a ghosting at my ears
sweet autumn, her song
calling the long night down
i understone and waiting
for gentle fingers to
slender prise me free.To like, click comments or:
understone
For you
Photo by Adarsh Kummur on Unsplash You’ll find me at moorwanders, following smalltrails and playing at touchstone for the only thing that is real. Here, elder ways draw to base: flame crosses chill, rain mists slick the stone, and the growl of winds between the ways. Here, the animals sing underhill, a call to slumber.
I know you tire at the mention of Raven, but they are here too.
The best magic is that which seems not to be magic at all, and it lingers here like it did in the old, doing a lot of nothing much at all: wind waves barley, skies trading slate for blue and then back again, small birds ducking in and out of the tall grass and the lone tree upon the hill. Them, big oak and me as all acorn, resting underneath and waiting.
For what? you ask.
Well, if you must need know… for you.
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For you
tossing a rune — 08aug25
fehu giving away books
to little libraries
to show my kin
sharing make us richer
than accumulationAnother rune poem of mine, where the rune is selected at random.
Today’s rune is fehu, which has a core meaning of “cattle” or a more generalized “livestock”, which was a representation of personal wealth. Wealth and prosperity was valued, but was looked down upon when accumulation appeared to be excessive, greedy, miserly or turned to hoarding, especially when those around you were lacking.
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tossing a rune — 08aug25
into alone
Photo by Kevin Hessey on Unsplash slipping blackthorn,
back to the gloam
to step out for a smoke
no kinsfolk, this wyrding
only feather & loam
only shadow & stoneTo like, click comments or:
into alone
waiting for maple
Photo by Tokyo Kohaku on Unsplash i have gone lost
down the bones
etched at kohl
in following many
elder ways to a place
called shadow
she is beyond name &
speaks in fingers
under the canopy green
skin earthstained red
waiting for maple
to bleedTo like, click comments or:
waiting for maple
Half-penny thoughts | 07aug25
Somewhere in Alaska, my photo My mind keeps going back to when I was driving through Alaska, Yukon and British Columbia. Not to disparage Alberta or Saskatchewan, but those landscapes were too “familiar”. Really, once you’ve seen one endless field of a particular crop, they all take on a similar character and we have a hell of a lot of examples of that landscape when you’re away from the river valleys in the upper midwestern states of North Dakota, Minnesota, South Dakota, Iowa and Wisconsin. My eye craved something different from what I could view a half-hour’s drive from home. And so, the last leg of my trip was not nearly as visually stimulating as the foreleg of the same.
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Half-penny thoughts | 07aug25
hear gates
Photo by Brett Wharton on Unsplash seeking a stop making sense
to snail ride a razor’s edge
staccato clipped my words trip
under themselves again
these old ones do not care
for your piety, no
they want to embrace storm
clacking bones trice
can you hear gates?To like, click comments or:
hear gates
shedding
Photo by Cornelia Munteanu on Unsplash we glide fields
wend the trees
crest the tor and
stretch wide mouths
to sing
this unpeopling
of ourselves celebrates
forest fires burning
inside our chests,
shriven
without names
these nature gods
shove hours aside
giving all to
heartwood
shed the wire
marking barbed against
soft flesh
and fly…To like, click comments or:
shedding
