What will you have for breakfast this Thursday, June 16? Anything special?
I’ll probably have a slice of toasted Seed Feast loaf from last week’s bake with a smear of peanut butter and pour-over coffee. I’ll raise my first steaming cup to Jennifer and wish her a happy Bloomsday.… Continue reading
I love poetry because it can open spaces inside me that are so hidden I might not know they are there. A word, a line, a rhyme can cast a light on something that could make me think, why have I been so oblivious to that?… Continue reading
By Helena Minton
Shuyak Island, Alaska
Wind blows from the mainland across the Straits
over nettle-covered middens where I’ve dug
for Aleut arrowheads, unearthing
fish bones, clam shells, human teeth.
Tribes slept near these hills
and in daylight told of omens dreamed
as elk of schools of spawning salmon.
Trout broach, eagles circle overhead
yet never enter my sleep.
If it weren’t for the extreme fire hazard warning, I’d wax poetic about the summer right now. The green apples on the branches, the delicate butterflies flitting over the lavender, the breeze rustling the leaves of the birch and poplars.… Continue reading
Bread inspiration comes from many places. I used to dream of bread, squishing dough between my fingers or tossing it into the air and catching it, feeling its weight and texture before tossing it up again, light as air.
It was common in these dreams for loaves to be rising in the background while other things were happening, looking out at the ocean, having an argument with someone, or having a kiss.… Continue reading