Raw Earth Ink
Spit mixed with dirt – Muddy words flow
The Endless Road
black tar ribbon flows
moves like water
racking up distance
my eyes yawn
mind darting
thinking thinking thinking
missing one, with hope
I have no courage
bravery: unknown
worry, my companion
beauty (through my eyes)
and fear (in my mind) braiding
what if…
what if…
oh, what have I done?
the ribbon flows on
I, with my thoughts,
ride atop its waves
pulled by tides unseen
emotions, too, like tides
pull and swirl
this endless road is only a metaphor
and I, a mere shadow
tara caribou | ©️2025 photo by me, Yukon Territory, Canada
See also CG Tenpenny’s poem which touched me deeply as I read it through. He made part of the same trip as well, though his journey much further, as he drove from Georgia to Alaska… but the mark the Yukon Territory made seems to be just as strong for him as it was for me.
Somewhere in the Mountains of Canada:
rock totem
watches
over Valley
what changes seen
glacial arm
become mineral river
become dry boulder bed
dust and echoes
goats of the mountain
now
with delicate hooves in motion
cross and listen
tara caribou | ©️ 2025
Oh thank heavens this trip is done. While the scenery is beautiful, sometimes breathtaking and sometimes terrifying, it’s a hard trip. On your body and on your mind.
As for me, I am, finally, home.
Clouds, Like Sheep’s Wool, Cover the Land
They say everything looks clearer at 30,000 feet but I found my clearest sight came while looking out over the wide open fields of Iowa. Breathe in, fresh vision and hope on the horizon. Breathe out, and the troubles of yesterday fade away, if but for a moment. Tears springing to my eyes, coat my cheeks, because it’s so damn beautiful.
And so are you.
My ear to your chest, I heard your heartbeats. I was made to love you. You’re all I could ever hope for or want.
The tears washed away the sadness while your touch dissolved the emptiness. My vision clears and fields of corn greet my gaze. Out of the corner of my eye, I see you. No. I really see you. The inner parts. And you see me. And in that moment, the petals of love opened even more.
tara caribou | ©️2025 photo by me, somewhere over the Alaskan or Canadian coast
Siri, Turn Off My Alarm
and now
me wrapped around you
you inside me
I inhale, you exhale
love like smoke curling from our lips
you, the finisher of my being
I close my eyes, it’s you
upon waking, I am reclaimed
your rite, a right
your touch slithering softly along my curves
making me become a woman
your voice pulling out of me
your name and the creation of something altogether new
tara caribou | ©️2025 photo by me
Hello, my friends.
Hello friends.
Summer has arrived to my corner of Alaska. It’s been warm and quite nice, weather-wise. I’ve been very busy this year, and getting busier. In a few weeks, my good friend, michael raven (of ravensweald), and I will be roadtripping from Alaska, through Canada, and on to the Midwest. I’m sure you’ll see some more updates as that gets underway, though we’ll be busy driving long miles and through some parts where there’s no cell service during the trip itself. Car camping along the way.
There are some changes happening for my family, as well as for my publishing company Raw Earth Ink. Lots of new books on the horizon and occasional content from me, when I’m not overly depressed.
I hope you’re all doing well. Leave me a note here or an email, text, or Telegram with how you’re doing and what you’ve been up to!
Love and light to you. ~tara
When I Wanted to Kiss Your Neck by the River
“This is who I am.” The words rise, though I am alone. I’m not perfect or beautiful or young: “This is me, accept me or reject me.” (Please, love me.) Some minutes later, I park, stumble gracelessly out of the car, hopelessly in love, nervously shrugging the words I had minutes before spoken aloud, and then I fall into your arms and find peace, home. (Please, oh god, please love me.) I think I play it cool, but inside oh how I want to kiss your neck, standing there by the river. Time slows. The wind tosses my hair everywhere. My skirt teases up, whips my knees. The air is fresh and warm. The grass, the leaves impossibly green. The water drifts lazily while the geese waddle by, ignoring us, our quiet conversation. You point out several landmarks and their significance. I remember you telling me about them, sending me photos. Now I see them in real life, with you. I just want to stay near you, from this moment on. My body, now imprinted by the memory of your arms around me, wonders: how to get closer? I can smell you, where my face had pressed to your chest. I wonder if you are half as affected by me as I you. I scoot everso slightly closer to you. Wanting to invade your space. Wanting you back in mine. Wanting your arms around me again. Our bodies pressed together. Our energies intermingling. Wanting to kiss you. For all my senses to be filled by you. Wanting all this and more and somehow at the same time filled with peace. Either you will accept me, or you won’t. Either you will love me or you will walk away. From me, with my flaws and fading youth and sad eyes. Me, with a heart full of love and grace. Me, loving only you.
As I drive away some days later, the skies having opened that morning, overdue rain now drumming the windshield, watering the parched fields, “How am I going to carry on without you now? Now that I’ve had you? Without a heart in my chest?” I wonder who will cry more: me, or the clouds. (I’m betting it’s me.) Tears run down my face. Drip-drip-dripping from my chin. “I love you,” I say inside an empty car. “Please don’t forget me,” I whisper to the passing landscape, hoping somehow my words will find you, in spite of the growing distance between us. But this I now know: you do love me. And I you.
tara caribou | ©️2025 photo by me
The First Fields at Sunrise
The morning sky, lightening from black to midnight blue, blue to lavender, and then pink on the impossibly far-off horizon. My first glimpses of a new future. I pass through a wall of peace as I cross the county line. This is what home feels like. My heart, open to budding love and altogether something new, sings in my chest. You almost make me believe in love at first sight. But it was before that, wasn’t it? When I first felt the inner you: the stirrings of real peace and enduring devotion. You say you’re nothing but I say you are everything I could ever desire.
The pink on the horizon lifts to a subtler shade, becoming more orange which I know will shift to the bright white of morning sun. It is as if it is morning in my soul as well. Is this a dream? Have I really found a home after all these years of searching and then giving up? Could I truly find a place to rest, and then upon this newfound tranquility, to grow? I believe I have.
tara caribou | ©️2025 photo by me
Sacred Grove
In the sacred grove lay secrets from the past for the future
Touching the grey furrowed bark of a grandfather oak, I listen
Be in the now, it’s all you have, this moment here, you and I
I weep for all the could-be’s and should-have-been’s
Wasted moments
I weep for the spread of dull apathy
A bridge rests quietly amongst the aged sentinels
It spans not water but history itself
A remembrance of by-gone days
Those of community, well-being, personal pride, hard work, and temperance
Crossing over allows me that glimpse, new possibilities cover my eyes
Oh grandfather!
What have you been witness to!
Teach me, I am listening!
Let us share a meal, soak in the warmth of the sun, wind caressing our skin
Let us talk and laugh and listen and lean in closer, shoulders bumping
Together we stretch time, negating its power
Glancing over, I fall deeper in love
Branches sway, leaves twist and rest, every direction I look is peace and joy
Uncertainty melts little by little
You have brought new life to my heart
Teach me more, I will listen!
Perhaps there are no secrets for the future
Perhaps all we truly have, is here
tara caribou | ©️2025 photos by me
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