not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Friday, July 4, 2014


i thought it was longing itself i longed for
but it is not,
but rather it is that longing is
as in: it is the greatest verb,
what we are

in the way the wave does not long for the shore
but is longing for the shore.


  1. This poem tells it like it is... Beautiful. Love the drama in the photo, too.

  2. i agree with Jonathan about the drama of the photo which could stand alone. i would gather what the turbulance in the waves would mean to me. yet, you exceeded this with an insightful reference to the word 'longing' that expresses, encapsulates, at least to me, what my existence is.


  3. always is.

    (where did you capture this wave?)

    1. amanda, we were on an island not far from here, the island i was born on in one of the great lakes. it's not the ocean but the water is plenty big enough:))) it was an unusual summer day, cold enough for sweaters, too cold to sit on the beach. instead we read heaney and hass in the car and watched a storm come in, later walking out onto the beach so that i could take this photo. it was an epic day.



"Words at the limit of hearing, attributable to no one, received in the conch of the ear like dew by a leaf." (philippe jaccottet) or even a quiet presence is appreciated))