Eliza Daley ~ Wordcraft & Musing on Home & Hope
A Full Moon Tale for the Hunter's Moon For many thousands of years of the sun, the people did not fear death. They were not callous or evil. They grieved for lost loves and shed many tears at eternal partings. Nor were they blind. They knew that each breath led on to a last gasp.… Continue reading The Sight
The Hunter's Moon is full at 6:02am (EST) on November 8th, but that's not why this is the blood moon. That appellation is a recent attempt to glamorize a full lunar eclipse which, of course, also happens early tomorrow morning. The moon begins to slide into eclipse at 3:01am EST and is done by 8:58am… Continue reading Blood Moon
Odin Rides to the Rock by Arthur Rackham The Old Farmers' Almanac calls this moon cycle the Hunter's Moon, but for me the Falling Leaves Moon is full today at 4:54pm. They seem to think this moon is named for the hunting season. This is neither temporally nor mythically correct. It is not yet hunting… Continue reading Falling Leaves Moon
Gary ate another palmful of antacids. Didn’t seem to matter what he ate for lunch these days. Or even if he ate. By mid-afternoon a bubble began to grow low in his gut and propagated up through his digestive tract until he felt like an iron fist was gripping his esophagus. On the long drive… Continue reading Wicker Man
the flow i and you in this dance flowing life from one to the other you give i receive green sustenance you create i unmake you, me to feed is death no breath without you no spark without me no me, no you without this arc my nourishment are you your nurture am i we… Continue reading Wednesday Word Poetry
i did not mean to say goodbye only… perhaps my boots did having some mystic yearning for autumnal perambulation and perturbation for resolution beyond words it is hard going being abandoned by quality footwear and i always was one for ruthless equinoctial cleaning putting the house in order sending spiders scurrying as the sun slides… Continue reading quenched
A Full Moon Tale for the Blueberry Moon I wrote this while contemplating the ebullient growth of green stuff in my garden. As a human, I tend to see this as "trying to take over the world". When really, it's more about "trying to be the world". The weeds and zucchini are just doing exactly… Continue reading A Word from Us
An informal letter of resignation which nobody will ever read. And a general polemical complaint which nobody will ever care about. I’m not a miracle worker. And they want a miracle. No. It’s worse than that. They need, we need, a miracle. We need a spontaneous and very specific genetic mutation. Now. Yesterday. Twenty years… Continue reading Corn Futures
It’s burning again. Look out across this river valley at the old volcano warts and there doesn’t seem to be enough to keep a churro fed, never mind an inferno. What’s it eating when there’s nothing but grit and gravel and black rock? I don’t go over that way enough to puzzle out that riddle.… Continue reading Desert Pyre: Winifred Mumbles
The wonderful thing about the future is that it does not exist. Yet. It is not given. It is certainly not certain. We can to some extent predict what might be, but we don't know that it will be. And given the oceans of unknowing that we know about and the near infinity that we… Continue reading Where to Begin…
By My Solitary Hearth 