Michael G. Smith is a very-early retired chemist whose poems are forthcoming or have been published in many literary journals. He has published three poetry books, No Small Things, The Dark is Different in Reverse, and The Dippers Do Their Part, co-authored with Laura Young from their residency at the Spring Creek Project’s Shotpouch Cabin. He conducts workshops on the intersections of poetry, science, mathematics and Nature, and lives in Santa Fe, NM.
Forest Log Work:
I stumble through the tangle of old growth. I stumble through a clear cut’s slash. I hike: Lobaria a verb above the mossy trail.read more
I am a stump of the old woods…read more
Originally published in Red Earth Review After a poem by Ryokan Cut and burnt by perceived needs and desires, I carry a blank pad into the old woods. Lichen a most patient thing underfoot, the ancients don't speak, don't listen. And the speak and listen, they not not...read more
Originally published in Red Earth Review On the morning of ten million trees we knock on the silence the creek carries, pass stream tasters, air sniffers avalanche debris flume poised to plumb the mystery called old growth. Steeped in a verse word- hungry ecologists...read more
Originally published on Miriam's Well Alder leaves fall into the creek one- by-one, float down stream, sometimes flipped over by a whim of current, one yellow leaf caught by a foot-wide eddy within four river rocks going round and round until an imperceptible change...read more