Author Archives: Jared Way

mud has its own moods not influenced by light’s moves waiting for darkness

autumn’s reflections articulate water’s shapes and dismember time

the wind tears at trees thrusts branches, tosses needles, throws the rain around

Phrases slip out and envelop the air hanging and swirling across small divides so, in that way they embrace the despair slowly arriving like foam on the tides

on the edges of things bits of meaning can be found: there… a bird flits by.

You’d think, with free time, I’d finish that damn novel. But I can’t seem to.

Pieces of paper are scattered across my desk. Outside, the wind blows.

What do the deer dream, curled up in some woody hollow? Do bears lurk out there?

from naked branches shimmering in twilight air tiny jewels hang

negative spaces of cerulean and pale, sketched by tree branches