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Ken Dola

Author

Opal Creek

Scrabbling up and across hot, acrid basalt slides we reach the brushy forest edge breathing hard and stop to look down on the rocky basin eyes quivering around its hot edge embroidered with orange vine maple and turning, looking up there's the ridge [...]

Nature Lessons

I During the crummy ride back to camp jouncing and lurching down rutted spur roads winding through the tattered mountains the body stiffens into an old tire that must become a living thing every morning. The interlocked heat of compressed bodies war [...]

The Faller

The forest flakes away, like King salmon meat. Each clearcut a plate of bones and skin. A hundred and thirty feet above the ground, fifteen hundred feet above the sea, bushy Spring-green spruce needles       tremble             in t [...]