Dad

December 9, 2012

Dave Bonta December 9, 2012

A flat-gray sky. Train whistles and quarry noise travel up the hollow, accompanying two overlapped umbrellas, one black, one white.

September 29, 2012

Dave Bonta September 29, 2012

From up behind my parents’ house, some vaguely melodic notes: a blue jay? Or my father whistling as he hangs out the laundry?

November 26, 2023
Another still, cold sunrise. I watch Venus creeping through the crown of a black locust, dwindling to a point that finally vanishes behind a flotilla…
November 26, 2022
A close shot echoes off the ridge—it’s the opening day of regular firearms deer season. The sun moves slowly through the trees, dimming, blazing.
November 26, 2021
Snow on the ground and in the air. When the wind eddies around to the east, a great flock of shriveled leaves lifts off from…
November 26, 2020
A few blue fissures in the clouds. A tree sparrow explores the ridges and valleys of the corrugated steel roof over the oil tanks.
November 26, 2019
Warmish. The sound of squirrel teeth chiseling into a black walnut. The red plastic hooks where hummingbird feeders hung shine in the sun.