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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