Tag Archives: Keith Moul


Death, as does friendship, falls beyond us; drowning, a firm handshake, bare smile, the opaque air of two split spheres: our lives roll like dimes down a sewer. Then, no names held us, wind blew us into corners, yesterday’s news … Continue reading

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Keeping Warm

The only knowledge of those woods I left with was a narrow road, and it snaked off, between the deep lake and hilltop, to someone else’s land, private property.                                  I tended that stretch, half a mile; kept the blackberries back … Continue reading

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Lesson: Confusion at the Root

Winter passing, I have that other chance; not the best, not even the first, but that chance still granted absent my deference toward the rose (what a gardener may call blind eye), or my unworthy neglect of its root. The … Continue reading

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At Home, No Complaints

We are each in our own devotions; we hack at our separate trees as chips, like psalms, collect at our feet. In winter we use the chips to start and the logs to feed our mutual fires. Guests warm there … Continue reading

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