Patrick Geddes was a man with a vision. Born in 1854 in Scotland he was interested in biology, geography, architecture, sociology and much more, and he worked in many of these areas successfully. Patrick Geddes was a pioneer of many things, but he’s best remembered as a town planner.
When the water and sand dance, whence (whence?) their music? What is that music? What sense, what composition surfs itself in? Yes, the water — its bazillion droplets, the mini-jetsam line it etches. Yes, the sand — its gazillion granules, the sponging gauze-and-muslin of… Continue Reading “When the Water and Sand Dance”
~ A Ghazal On the train to Rome, cigar smoke clouds my window; people eat mortadella and a porter sells gum and mints. I travel to a sacred place, discover a broken latch. In prayers of my own device, I have questions. We know… Continue Reading “Unhinged”
This was our territory once. Every lifetime our places and times of day diminish, but as long as food sources remain plentiful we will stay here and adapt — learning to cross carefully the hard grey roadways and the daylight hours, the noise and… Continue Reading “As Forest”
The warm air of the Aegean is a blanket wrapped around you. Life moves slowly and without any cares. Days stretch long like a yawn and nights are still and quiet. Here, in Greece, the heat of the day weighs your bones and makes your limbs heavy, pulling rest and sleep in to you naturally and peacefully. The ocean withdraws and then pushes forward to the land again and again like deep and dense breaths.
Sunday — September clouds trail the hillsides, misty fingers and thighs Monday — pancakes a little burned, gold leaves spend all their luck on scent Tuesday — you, a splash of yellow – you, the sun in the brook, our legs twined like branches… Continue Reading “Daybook”
Josh who once lived in this house “Josh!” I hear Dad call even before he’s standing. “Up!” he says, though he might have called, Josh! then, Fire! meaning, tend to the coal-stove. Up means move, boy. Downstairs he’s at the cooker rattling the gate,… Continue Reading “Josh”
Want to join us on a literary ecology adventure?
At low tide I walk the sandbar Far out to sea Out to islands Of gulls and cormorants Leaving distant dots of people on shore. Terns dart and swoop Sandpipers race the tide The sea breathes Each wave exhales into the next. Immersed in… Continue Reading “Low Tide”
accessible version for screen readers: evening tea the slow steeping of stars ©2019 by Ben Moeller-Gaa in celebration of International Haiku Poetry Day Ben Moeller-Gaa is a Pushcart nominated haiku poet whose poems, reviews and essays have appeared in over 30 journals worldwide. He… Continue Reading “evening tea…”