R. S. Williams

All I want is to get the words right.

Tag: Travel (page 1 of 2)

Friday Photo: 7/14/17

“A Quiet Moment in KC”
Kansas City, Missouri – 13 June 2017

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Wednesday Photo: 7/12/17

“Waiting on a Train, Part 12”
Kansas City, Missouri – 13 June 2017

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Friday Photo: 7/7/17

“Self-Portrait with Porous Concrete”
Kansas City, Missouri – 16 June 2017

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Friday Photo: 6/30/17

“Mosaic Bluebird, KCMO”
Kansas City, Missouri – 18 June 2017

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Wednesday Photo: 6/28/17

 

“Waiting on a Train, Part 11”
Kansas City, Missouri – 13 June 2017

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

Friday Photo: 6/9/17

“Red Truck Reflection”
Marietta, Georgia – 25 May 2017

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Wednesday Photo: 3/29/17

“Waiting on a Train, Part 6”
Denver, Colorado – 1 March 2017

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Wednesday Photo: 3/22/17

“Waiting on a Train, Part 5”
Denver, Colorado – 1 March 2017

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Wednesday Photo: 3/15/17

“Waiting on a Train, Part 4”
Denver, Colorado – 1 March 2017

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Friday Photo: 12/30/16

TurquoiseLeap_COPY02_2014-08-10 20.20.38

“Turquoise Leap”
Denver, Colorado – 10 August 2014

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

 

After returning from a literary conference

When I left for Oxford, forsythia and daffodils bloomed in yards and ditches. Four days later, yellow bells nodded into green, shriveled into tan. Purple redbud fuzz held fast against the tail-end of the storm. March winds shredded spring to tatters, blew olive-brown backwaters choppy and cold.

Is this the place I left?
Are you sure?
Because I am not.

In Mississippi, I could not shake the strange floating feeling. No drugs or booze here, oh no—with nearly no filter between mind and mouth, years ago I gave up substances for presence. Was it how my beloved friends suddenly surrounded me? How we workshopped and brainstormed and channeled the next ghost or twelve? How my companions’ poetry sent my eyes and hands skyward in a rush that nearly made me speak in glorious tongues? How I knew that even the strangers sitting beside me were as fiercely devoted to our craft as I am? How we all swore, silently and aloud, never to separate ourselves from bearing witness to this good green earth and all it holds?

I went home to Mississippi.
It loves me.
I went home to Georgia.
It loves me.

Love and fear and friends bind me to this place, fix my feet solidly to this patch of earth. Love and fear and friends call me to shape words, to tear them apart and sew them together, to push them and myself out into the world, to tell and tell and tell again.

Is that it?
Are you sure?
Because I am.

 

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

Hank Williams: 1923-1953

HankSrGravesite_BocephusRequest_2008

Today would have been Hank Williams’ 90th birthday.

Photo: Hank & Audrey Williams’ grave site, Oakwood Cemetery Annex, Montgomery, Alabama – Spring 2008

Friday Photo: 5/3/13

Cars Will Be Launched (Louisville, Kentucky - 8 June 2009)

Louisville, Kentucky—8 June 2009

Nearly Wordless Wednesday: 2/6/13

Vintage Ford Mustang #170 (Denver, Colorado - 30 July 2012)

Denver, Colorado—30 July 2012

Nearly Wordless Wednesday: 1/30/13

Red Rocks Ampitheatre #043 - 06 March 2010

Morrison, Colorado—6 March 2010

Nearly Wordless Wednesday: 1/2/13

Warner Robins, Georgia—10 April 2010

Nearly Wordless Wednesday: 11/21/12

Warner Robins, Georgia—10 April 2010

Friday Photo: 8/31/12

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Denver, Colorado—31 July 2012

Friday Photo: 8/10/12

Nashville, Tennessee—16 August 2008

Every place is sacred

Oak, hickory, dogwood, mountain laurel, sassafras, tulip poplar, elm, sweet gum, locust—I wished I’d brought along my tree book. Frothy green ferns carpeted the ground, but not so thickly that I couldn’t see the dark, glossy poison ivy leaning into the trail. Leaves of three, stay away from me.

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