With glass hands he reached up to pluck the apple from the tree. He sliced the apple and baked it in a pie. Glass hands are quite useful for removing hot pans from the oven. With glass hands he served the pie to his lady who glanced at it.
“Sing to me,” she said. “and then I shall eat.”
So he sang and her hunger grew.
“Touch me,” she said. “and then I shall eat.”
But he could not for her skin was stone lest his glass hands shatter.
The tallest tree in the forest decided to take a walk one day. It had never done so before, so the act was quite surprising to the other trees. Some of the saplings became very afraid. As youngsters who looked up to the grand tree, they didn’t know any better and assumed that the oldster held up the sky, so far up did its branches reach. Sometimes, on clear nights, the saplings noticed that the moon would get tangled up in the top branches of the tallest tree. It didn’t have the heart to correct them, but when the moon failed to show one evening, the tree worried something had gone wrong, hence the decision to go for a walk in search of the moon to restore her to her place in the starry heavens.
The fluke of a blue whale
The beach is deserted, just me and the incoming tide and the setting sun nestling into the distant waves. You are there. You are everywhere. You are in the shell I pick up and in the sound of the sea inside the shell when I hold it close to my ear.
Rush of night
Rushing blood through heart and veins
You are near, somewhere along the coast, while I am here on the other side of the pass from you. The wind blows, a blessed wind that carries you to me and I breathe you in, life-sustaining. Would that I could walk with you, to hold your hand, to hear your voice, that we might conspire and find breath together.
Why does everything feel significant at four in the morning, or when the snow falls all night to cover the world in the same white blanket, or when you catch me looking at you?