Traveling Through Resistance
Lean into a gathering
And binds me to a day I’ll remember
It’s been a few days since I posted. Not that I haven’t written tons and tons, but thank God I have demonstrated some degree of self control and not publicized my sad, grieving, horrifying thoughts. A word of advice, when you lose your love, do not read poetry like this: The Summer We Almost Split…
The Mississippi River has gotten a bit high, making our usual path by the river impassable. But the high river made for a few good photos and of course, another poem. I bet you can’t wait until poetry month is done! Oh, and on a side note. I have a new camera on order. I…
My story about treating heaves in my horse and visiting the Owen H. Wangensteen Historical Library of Biology and Medicine
I’m looking for A rhythm Like hoofbeats On rock Like a rider Who is joined In the up And the down And the breath And the heart And in knowing This is right You know the feeling. Golfers and baseball players call it the “sweet spot”. It’s that moment when you get it just right. The longer…
Prologue: I wrote this for a reading at my writer’s group to discuss where I am as a writer. WARNING: It contains some swearing and crazy-ass thinking. I’m still grieving the loss of Luke. And it appears any time you suffer one loss, it brings up feelings from all the other losses in your life….
Verlyn Klinkenborg writes a column for the New York Times. In the piece that appeared last week, he wrote about the wind in a way I thought many of you could relate to: “By evening, even the horses were weary. They had been blown about all day as though they weighed a few ounces instead…
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Beautiful, Maery! I love how red Luke is. Nothing like hugging your horse when they have that soft winter coat.
Fantastic shots and text! Wow!
Beautiful!