Tag Archives: recovery

Forest

I went into the woods

to count the countless trees,

where three hundred years

is young,

found they indeed have a number

the ancient mossy stumps of giants

felled long ago

host seedlings that may never

grow

to the heights of their ancestors

while the wind through the pine boughs

are whispered legends, myths in Mi’kmaq

quietly told to others who will never understand.

© Erik Hansen 2018

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Filed under American, Contemporary, Creative Writing, Diversity, Edges, Literature, outdoors, Poetry, Publishing, Self Publishing, Writing

2nd Cover Mock-up

Here is the second tentative cover. I am leaning towards this one as it is a cleaner, more simplistic look.

Thoughts?

Feel free to visit my website via the link below where you can shop, read about upcoming projects & subscribe to my email list.

Thanks for visiting!

Edges & Other Worlds

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Filed under Creative Writing, Diversity, Edges, fantasy, Fiction, outdoors, Philosophy, Poetry, Publishing, Reality, science fiction, Self Publishing, Short Fiction, Short Story, Writing

Cover Test

Tentative cover for the soon to be released “Cicadas” (4/1/2018)

Thoughts?

Comments are appreciated!

Also, stop by my new website and feel free to subscribe to my email list. No junk just good stuff!

Here’s the link to my site:

https://erikhansen67.com

Thanks for stopping by!

E

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Website Update

Hey all! It’s been a while I know; I’ve been super busy getting Cicadas ready and writing several short stories at the same time.

I did manage to get the new website up and running and you can find signed paperback copies of Compass there at a discount!

Also feel free to sign-up for an email subscription and I promise not to bombard you with junk but only good stuff!

Edges & Other Worlds

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Filed under Creative Writing, Diversity, Edges, fantasy, Fiction, outdoors, Philosophy, Poetry, Publishing, Reality, science fiction, Self Publishing, Short Fiction, Short Story, Writing

Four 22

  
Grass grows up 

between sun bleached

ribs and pelvis

Leaf litter lays

obscured by its insistence

New days rise up

upon the bones of the past

rejoice

in your moment

before the moment has passed.

© Erik Hansen 2016

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Four Seventeen

  
I remember holding her

so small 

so fragile

her cries were so soft

I determined to never let her go

Today is her eighteenth birthday

I made her crepes

her favorite

and we talk 

of what she might want to do

after college

God

I love her so much.
© Erik Hansen 2016

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4-11

  

change is subtle

slow most times

less often it arrives

a cataclysm of words

people, places, things,

cutting like concertina wire

as you scramble over

cut, bloodied, tired

that tipping point reached

you run

slow over the muddy fields

and far away

to a place unseen

by human eyes

pristine, unspoiled,

clean,

without the water

to wash it all away.
© Erik Hansen 2016

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Four One

Once her hair hung down
her back
rich, shiny, black
Like a crows’ or Grackles’ feathers
Or piled up tight
in a bun
stuck with pins
you could barely see
Now age has cropped it
to a utilitarian length
silver white it shines
from between the flowers
she has painstakingly nurtured
in her gardens
like the full spring moon
high
in the daytime sky.

© Erik Hansen 2016

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Rains

culvert

The rains come

And never really clean

The parking lots and streets

And driveways

Just carry things away

To unseen places

Far away, insensate pools

Oil residue

Creates a kaleidoscopic slick

Upon the water’s surface

As even more spills forth

Churning indefatigably from the culvert’s maw.

© Erik Hansen 2014

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The Burning

Your sonnet burned itself

Into our minds

A brand held lightly

Yet firmly pressed

Screaming its smoky life

Released into the world

To bring ruin upon us all

Cities lie in ashes

In the whispered echoes

Of your love.

 

© Erik Hansen 2014

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