Tag: John Ogren

Breathing by John Ogren

Waiting at a stoplight, I noticed a plastic shopping bag caught in the upper branches of a tall, leafless tree across the freeway. The palest gray, it first made me think of an egg. I might have seen it before— a jelly fish hovering…

Nothing is true in Dallas by John Ogren

Nothing is true in Dallas. Streets run askew at its heart and constantly prank the compass mind— erratic radii off a bucking colt of a river, lately bridled and channeled. Drive out and patterns regress to norms of latitude and longitude but even here…

Vagrants by John Ogren

Birders in Texas pay attention to hurricanes because the gigantic pinwheels blow birds everywhere. When birds are blown off course during migration, some right their compasses and complete their routes. Others make do in borrowed habitats. Due to strange surroundings and exhaustion these vagrants…