The Field Museum

taken in The Field Museum, Chicago, IL


Chicago Botanic Garden

“The massed Michaelmas daisies and goldenrod, the dahlias and chrysanthemums, purple and scarlet and gold, seemed to burn with deeper and deeper passion as one looked at them, and the lawn after the morning’s rain wore a green so vivid that one caught one’s breath.” -Elizabeth Goudge, Green Dolphin Street

Ode to Rainbows

Lead me home, fragmented, distorted light. You fluoresce through my sheathed eyes and create shimmering illusions. Burdened condensation weeps for you to be birthed in the thick sky, brooding shadows complementing your silken stretch to the muddy flowers and dripping limbs. You search for every green bud and kiss every upturned blossom. The scalding sun … Continue reading Ode to Rainbows


Please, don’t ask me to remember the melody of her cell phone jolting her awake and secretly brushing the sleep from my eyes too. I could hear her choked, soft voice echoing through the pill bottles and travel shampoo. The only comfort that morning was grimy hotel room sheets. She came out of the bathroom, … Continue reading Please

The Deepness

Love hovered in the air this night, brushing the frozen grass with tender fingertips. It sat there in quiet ease, filling up old truck beds and sparkling under streetlights surrounded by the dark. It never spoke, but I felt the blushing warmth tapping my shoulders, slowly covering the toes of my boots. The trees bent … Continue reading The Deepness

All Time Past

For we have every one of us felt how a very few minutes of the months and years called life, will sometimes suffice to place all time past and future in an entirely new light; will make us see the vanity or the criminality of the by-gone, and so change the aspect of the coming … Continue reading All Time Past

Ode to those Nights We Spent by the Fire

Blistering with grey cracked stones in the back of my head, I stuck my hand in the fire. The glow was too precious not to have scarred on my soft skin. Remembering the warmth is the only option. The fire will cool and so will the stinging sparks but maybe that striped mark will stay. I … Continue reading Ode to those Nights We Spent by the Fire