Tag Archives: Dogs

Tall and Small (34)

I see Helga and Gino partway down Indian Trail as I’m crossing Sonora. We wave to each other, and I keep going. What, I can’t walk in a different direction so I can say hello? There is no reason I … Continue reading

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Dogless (21)

I close the gate behind me and head out through the wall of heat 111 degrees at eight o’clock at night. It is hard to move hard to keep going hard to breathe impossible to think of anything else. There … Continue reading

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Poetry and Prose (17)

“Do you know what you are?” an editor asked Ray Bradbury in his youth. “You’re a poet!” I love knowing he told him this. I am not a poet, am I? It is prose that comes to me. But might … Continue reading

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