The days shorten, the deadlines thicken.

The days shorten, the deadlines thicken. Make haste while it doesn’t rain. Relish the crush of the leaves underneath feet. The days shorten, the deadlines thicken. A crash: the shower curtain gives up its elasticity forever. The leaves ground into carpet, the vacuum cleaner waiting. The days shorten, the deadlines thicken. I wake early, write […]

A New Fixed Place

A New Fixed Place by Nancy Schatz Alton I still see you in your broad striped onesie, blue & minty green watch you roll across the wood floor: you propel yourself where you want to go.   I read that I was your fixed place. Slowly, I am no-longer-your-fixed place. You are becoming your own […]


Eleven hours of sleep make me a cloud with nothing to say. A cloud with dishwater blond hair, stinky breath and coiled muscles. One with a brain thinking about language and how I overuse words. That is what’s next: creating a new dictionary for myself to feed my brain. Blogging every day is magical because […]

Making Sense of Nothing Making Sense

Making Sense of Nothing Making Sense by Nancy Schatz Alton   Reds still dot my daily view. Yellows turn to ochre. Brown dried leaves litter our floors. Ground down to particles—fall lives inside our home. The molds live in us. We wake to heat clicking on, dried sinuses— a tightness across our faces. Nothing to […]

The Whole World

Whole World by Hsueh-Feng The whole world is you. Yet you keep thinking there is something else.   Yesterday I made a protective cone around my center of strength and propelled myself through the day. The memory of the last election taught me that I needed a plan. A plan like a salve: self-care so […]

Hummingbirds & Hips

Hummingbirds & hips by Nancy Schatz Alton My left hip holds the unnameable; the nerves that pulse here stop me from running & yet these strong legs still hold me up (like the tree trunk out front that refuses to die) & bring me to windows to spy hummingbirds.   I have a feeling these […]

Real Love

If I love what is real, I love the trees outside my window in the same way that I love bad endings. The click of a phone line that ended a friendship. The way it opened me up into seeing what still surrounds me. My husband asking me if I missed my friend. My husband […]