Cameron

Vertiginous

I’ll remember forever the miracle of green. The way it unfolds, overnight, starting low, springing high, swan-diving outward from every tree trunk. The dizzying billows and boughs of green that hang and shiver and swing. Spring tumbles on in a clumsy cascade of fertility, wind, and ripening, and the proliferation of life, vertiginous, obscures from… Continue reading Vertiginous

Cameron

Then a Hard Truth Hit Him

Mid-lunch with him, a bright air set off, in hoping, a bright air set off, confessed he, a bright air’s infix. That invigoral loose, that inner tram, having been spoken, stars dug in, clung. She is October melanin, newcomer in cotton; in his eye variety alternates round her. Halting for her, he is wondering. Her… Continue reading Then a Hard Truth Hit Him

Cameron

A psalm for spring in Virginia.

A triversen.  God is in the hills, and God is in the valley; he reigns over the course of the river. He is Lord in the chapel where the believers pray, and Lord in the alleys at night. The birch with its trunk stripped of bark, like the uncovered face of a bride, knows who… Continue reading A psalm for spring in Virginia.

Cameron

Things I Kept By Accident

My first roommate’s shower shoes, my second roommate’s toilet brush, tea packets from the break room at work; my older sister’s going-out dress, my mother’s crimson lipstick, the landlord’s rusted screwdriver; my first boyfriend’s mother’s jacket, my second boyfriend’s shirt, the office key I thought I’d lost; a deeper trust in newer friends, empathy for… Continue reading Things I Kept By Accident