This New Raw Season
Spring in Utah's canyon country, the land still denuded by
winter's fury, bits of green here and
there, branches broken by chill winds, clusters of purple locoweed that grow only in disturbed areas.
My only connection to the world, a static-riddled radio, brings
the news, today's the kind that makes for sleepless nights: a village
washed away by a tsunami, the countryside devastated by an
artificial sun's fury – the Fukushima meltdown; a people,
frightened, in tears.
It seems so far, yet so near, Japan, that small island of a
who love cherry blossoms and gave haiku to the world.
from a flash flood –
A revision of a piece originally published in Notes from