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Epilogue: Moran Speaks from the Grave

This simpler house provides the meaning
To days and weeks and months and years:
I hear coyotes’ crafty keening
Regale the hills. I watch the bears
Awake in spring to feast and famine
Astride the banks and pawing salmon,
A chance to tip the slippery scales.
I watch the baleful breech of whales
From deep beyond what depth imagines –
An eagle spins a thermal wheel
As heaven hears the loon and teal
Refrain Seattle’s fire legends…
What starts in serendipity –
Is finished in serotiny.


  1. Thanks JOB.

    Did you know that Bruce Lee is also burying there? And Brandon Lee.

  2. Jonathan Potter says:

    Nice work. But you remind me of my neighbor who, when I built a humble little treehouse last summer, had to go and outdo mine about ten to one, with a shingled roof, shutters, a retractable staircase. I know you and he can’t help yourselves, but it’s just bad manners dudes.

    • Alas, I meant no foul nor harm!

      If there was any meant, may it only redound to me!

      Please for to forgive!

      (There’s still plenty to say about the fire, though – so get going. We’re down to our last week!)


      • Jonathan Potter says:

        No harm, no foul. I’m just playing the part of the lazy grasshopper hassling the industrious ant. I thought our deadline was mid-August, though.

  3. Jonathan Potter says:

    Did you snap the picture yourself? A quick stopover on your way down to San Diego for a cocktail review assignment?

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