Writing September 24, 2026

Fog

A short poem on what it means to dwell in the unfound.

A rocky shoreline at the waterline, the sea and sky dissolving together into thick white fog.

The poem "Fog" set in typewriter type over the same fog-bound shoreline: "a ground for the unfound / no signal / no beacon / further into the matter / dwell."

Written by Ti Mougne

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Bare winter trees standing in still floodwater, their trunks doubled in the reflection, two ducks trailing wakes across the surface

Caregiving — September 18, 2026

Daughter

A poem about what becomes of us when a relationship that has always defined us begins to change.

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The sun slips behind a ridge of blue foothills at dusk, beneath clouds lit orange and violet, with a wide grassy meadow and a fence line in the foreground.

Caregiving — September 12, 2026

Let the Moment Be Enough

A husband asked me whether a beautiful night out with his wife had caused the hard days that followed. What I told him is something I've been circling for years.

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