Author Archives: janishaag

(for Georgann) Why today, of all days,when I drive to a small townwhere you used to take meto stroll and shop, I geta huge hit of you,I have no idea. But there you are,as present as the sun,equally bright, as … Continue reading →

(for Deborah Meltvedt on her 64th birthday) This is how I think of you:sitting inside a pasture fence,pen in hand, notebook on lap,grazing horses nearby, or standing at a fence to leta curious horse whiffle yourhand before you caress itsvelvety … Continue reading →

(for Cathy Tkach on ourPort Townsend, WA, walk) Here in the Pacific Northwestthe locals don’t blink athooved ones lying on lawnsor walking up the wrong sideof the road by the beach. But we flatlanders fromCalifornia are mesmerizedby these cud-chewing planteaters, … Continue reading →

and I am oddly stressed about it,as though I am back in the sixth gradewith Mrs. Keuter, who never crackeda smile the whole year, insisting thatwe recite in front of the class—aparticular kind of torture. I wrote poetry. I felt … Continue reading →

(for Isabel Stenzel Byrnes) Sitting on a patio overlookingsaltwater and forest, tiny bitsof fluff float toward me,decorating my shirt with miniseed pods bound for someplacethey can’t determine. They literally go where the wind blows. I idly wonder—cottonwood?I don’t see any, … Continue reading →

Port Ludlow, Washington (for Al and Terri Wolf) I head down the path, laptop in tow,to get some work done on an afternoonwhen my hometown two states south broils under mid-July heat. But here,on the sub deck, some 30 degrees … Continue reading →

I appear in a selfie takenby a 50-something woman witha Hawaiian-style backpackand her turquoise T-shirt’d fellaas we stand in line,waiting to board the plane. She holds up her phone,takes a photo, and in the small screenI can see my face … Continue reading →

(for Terri, the day after her birthdayas I arrive for an in-person visit) ••• We visit now, sometimes write together,onscreen, my distant friend, but somehow the miles melt as we talk,as Quince makes an appearance, as our long conversation continues,not … Continue reading →

(for Jill) Jill brought me a single sunflowerthe size of a bread plate, a smallorange stop sign atop a sturdy stem. “I wanted to bring you the whole thing,”said the flower-grower, beaming hersunny grin, “but it wouldn’t fit in my … Continue reading →

Green BuddhasOn the fruit stand.We eat the smileAnd spit out the teeth. —“Watermelons,” Charles Simic I heft the perfect orb in one hand,the size of a cantaloupe butcrocodile green with alligator stripes,smiling at its smooth-firmness,imagining the gifts inside. And I … Continue reading →