Rain

Arrows and Rain

Rain can spoil an archer’s day, while conspiring with a writer’s muse.  Such was tournament day.  Decisions taken, plans made, grounds prepared, practice and practice on the Archer’s Green, as our intentions, like raised flags, came into sharp relief.  But rhythms more comprehensive than these prevail––sometimes dramatically––and so the geometry of one possibility, with all […]

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Burning Leaf Moon

Twilight fell into night and a full moon rose with an amber-red glow, like firelight from a wood stove.  Our mountains are burning ‘neath a sky that’s forgotten how to rain.  A spring-killing drought leaves a deadly thirst among the highland natives.  At the Shire, our smoke-reddened eyes and nasal stings are brought by ashen

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