Time

Jim Harrison wrote in his poem, “Time”— Time sinks slowly to the deepest part  of the ocean, the Mariana Trench.  She’s tired of light and there it’s pure black…She feels  abused by clocks. They were never meant  to be. She preferred us drifting through  our lives like clouds, without dials,  machinery, alarms, riding her  like the […]

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My Question

It’s a misty, overcast morning. The air is primed for rain. The sweet corn calls from the garden. It’s time — perhaps past time — to pick and process it for winter storage. The summer winds to a close on these last days of August. In northwestern Minnesota summer announces its exit without equivocation. The […]

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