Sleeping
I’m laying here in the in-between of suns beginning to spin thoughts in the moon sunk hours unraveling, my loose threads tangle in tiny...
A Gondola is the Wrong Choice for Little Cottonwood
I have vivid memories from childhood of driving up Little Cottonwood Canyon and entering a new, magical world filled with rustling...
Artemisia
The desert is ruthlessly balanced in its extremes, carrying life in a brutal but perfect homeostasis. Suspended in the swinging pendulum...
“Staying with the trouble” on Planet (i)
No matter where you live, I can bet you have experienced climate change in some form—warmer winters, strange storms—or at the very least,...
From a Front Porch
I live on the second floor of a century-old brick house in the avenues of Salt Lake City, a recent transplant from the valleys of Western...
A John Muir Trail Poem
Live your life as if it were impossible to fail, said a warrior-poet on the John Muir Trail. I’m a meal for mosquitos, an ape without a...
So Plainly Marvelous: Mary Oliver and My Search for the Sublime
My relationship with the great outdoors hasn’t always been easy. As a young teenager, stepping into the elements made my face swell up...
Running Into Wealth
Ua lawa mākou i ka pōhaku I ka ʻai kamahaʻo o ka ʻāina We are satisfied with the stones Astonishing food of the land - Ellen...
Wild Dandelions
At eight years old, I memorized the worn stone pathway of my elementary school’s garden. It swirled up and down, up and down and then up...
In Consideration of This Connection of Everyone With Lungs
At some point in college, a friend passed off a book of poems to me: This Connection of Everyone with Lungs by Juliana Spahr. I’ve...