The story you’re about to read is a metaphor. It’s also true. * The storm comes yesterday out of the West, where the sunset should be. Instead, there’s a fast-moving bank of black clouds. I feel it as a pressure behind my eyes first, and then the first clap of thunder cracks over the horizon. I […]
Tag: Walt Whitman
Same Body, Second Glance: Day Forty
August 9, 2014 Today is my fortieth day … Can you believe it? And *this…* This is what I’m holding onto… ❤ /// {{Wondering what’s going on here?? Almost a year ago, I found myself on bad terms with the person in the mirror. So I made a commitment: every day for forty days, I’d […]
When I am on my knees at the water’s edge …
I go down to the river with my camera. The water is slowing to ice but the shoreline is still wet, the grass flecked with drops like diamonds. Maybe tears. I get down on my knees and part the dead rushes, brown tufts, looking for green. I am thinking of a certain kindred spirit, who has been […]
ASHLEY WILSON FELLERS 