The End of Sitka

Only two days left of my time at Sitka.
My work here has been different than I expected, and I will be walking away with new stories I did not anticipate.
The land here is so beautiful it's both distracting and nourishing, which I think is the idea of a residency.
If it were all as simple as meeting your agenda, you might as well stay home.

So here's to Sitka and Cascade Head and the pygmy owl and the breaching whale and the bald eagles and the seals and sea lions and the herons on the river. This time has been unforgettable.

You Don't Miss Your Water

A Rag, A Bone, And A Hank Of Hair


I'm sitting alone with my father at the funeral parlor.
Viewing hours have just begun, but it's midday work
week, and for a few hours it'll be just me and him, the
first time I've laid eyes on him since the phone call
woke me up.

I'm doing what a son is supposed to do, or so I've
been told, but it's hard work, sitting with what used
to love and trouble you.

Of course, his body is a bright lie in its casket,
everything that has brought him here carefully
hidden or rearranged.

Is there something I want to tell him? Anything I
can forgive?

I can only sit and wait and listen to the gospel
music as it buzzes through the speakers. Jesus, Jesus,
Jesus. All his time, all his struggles that I still call life.

All his trials.


- Cornelius Eady