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Tag: David Koff

BLOSSOMING, NO MATTER WHAT: A CHRISTMAS (CACTUS) STORY

Posted on December 25, 2021December 25, 2021 by Crescent Dragonwagon

SOMETHING, SOMEWHERE, IS BLOOMING. NOW.  IT MAY NOT BE THE PLANT YOU WANTED OR EXPECTED. ITS TIMING MAY BE OFF, OR ODD, OR MYSTERIOUS. BUT BEFORE YOU GIVE OVER TO  DESPAIR, — EASY, IN THESE DIFFICULT AND UNENDINGLY STRESSFUL TIMES —  LOOK FOR THE BUD, THE BLOSSOM. IF IT CAN FLOWER IMPROBABLY, SO CAN YOU….

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This is the way it works: reminder from a turkey buzzard

Posted on December 5, 2014October 20, 2015 by Crescent Dragonwagon

This is the way it works. You return to a town where you used to live. You go on a short walk, on a street you have walked many times. You are only stretching your back and legs and getting a few more steps in so your Fitbit will be happy at the end of…

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the deer’s ears: Mose, me, misery & moments

Posted on May 31, 2010 by Crescent Dragonwagon

Today, coming down to the hill towards the pond, beginning my morning walk, two animals — one large, one small — standing in the middle of the gravel road. I caught my breath, stood stock-still, blinked and waited, blinking a few times to clear my not-so-good vision so I could identify them. Ah. A white-tailed…

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Part Two, at last! “the rare hare of hope” bounds back in: with guest appearances by Letterman, Aunt Dot, Chou-Chou, Joseph Campbell, Konrad Stanislavski & Sir Francis

Posted on April 11, 2010 by Crescent Dragonwagon

I began writing these words on Easter Sunday, as Christians celebrated the triumphant arc of their spiritual year, when Christ rises from death. But resurrection itself belongs to everyone, regardless of belief, or non-belief. Here in much of America, Easter-time coincides with the year's resurrection. The alarm clock set by the spin and wobble of…

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dreaming, as two decades join: “rare hare of hope,” part one

Posted on January 2, 2010 by Crescent Dragonwagon

My unconscious, in the dreams it chooses to deliver to me, seems to view my conscious mind as a kindergartner. When it gives me the information that it's decided I need, it does so in very simple terms. Simple, but strange. Like the dream I had two nights ago, just before one decade ended and…

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creative discontent: lasting father-wit, & a writer/innkeeper’s ex-files

Posted on July 24, 2009 by Crescent Dragonwagon

I used to be an innkeeper. I used to be a daughter with a living father. I am neither of these things now. Yet both reside within me. Both come into my present life at unexpected times. They did today, a moist, misty day, one in which I felt slightly out-of-sorts. Perhaps this very out-of-sortness…

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