HeyJaredHowl and Heart
Mother of Coyotes. Tracks in the Dark. Writings about grief and love, a remembering of my soul.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 5
- Latest publication
- Sep 30, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 8, 2026
Latest issues
Grief Tender (opens the original)
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A dear friend recently told me that he almost accidentally ‘outed me’ as a Grief Tender. It took me a while to even compute this statement, I rolled it over and over in my mind, confused. It is so interesting to me to think it hides, or rather, that I can hide it.Do I not wear it on my sleeve? In the curve of my back? In the lines of my face?My hair, broken and brittle at the line of February 2025.When half the world dropped away.Do I not move with the shadow of longing, with part of my heart cl
The Heartbeat Is A Whale Song (opens the original)
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Tahlequah (J35) carried her dead calf for 17 days and over 1000 miles. She lost a second calf and carried this dead baby for 11. Instead of healing from birth, instead of nursing a newborn, instead of carrying joy, she carried physical pain and torment across an ocean. She is us, grieving out loud. Exhausting her already taxed body, unable to let go. We’ve named these whales with numbers since so few of them exist, as if that keeps it easier to track. I will remember her name instead. I will hol
A Recipe for Hunger (opens the original)
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Start on the most lackluster Tuesday in your life. GATHER THE FOLLOWING:The crushing weight of grief, intermixed with the silvery threads of moonlight.They said don’t put that in your mouth. But you want to taste DIRT.The name of someone you once loved. Rancid on everyone’s lips but yours.Spoiled leftovers. You had to throw out so many things. Too many things.Tears that never run out of salt. (Is, at times, the only ingredient.)A ro
Wild Wolves (opens the original)
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Come summer there is a pack of wild, white wolves in my yard. They masquerade as snow white hydrangeas during the day. Crisp linen beauties against the verdant greens of a Vermont summer.In the evening they sway heavy branches. Full. These robust, healthy wolves.They strain under the weight of their blooms, readying to prowl as dusk descends. It’s as if they spill over, a foamy cup running over the edge. They undulate in the waning light. Shaking their heads and readying for transformation as th
The Intimacy of Grief (opens the original)
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Grief is such an intimacy. It invades my body, my mind, my soul.Literally every inch of me,from my thinning hair,to my fractured heart chakra,to how my toes grip the earth as I need to ground over and over and over again.It takes up my pages, my waking thoughts, and my dreams.It has changed relationships in my life, both severing and forging, but invading nonetheless.<a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-16224051
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