Author Archives: jaurquhart

Unknown's avatar

About jaurquhart

Jack Andrew Urquhart was born in the American South. Following undergraduate work at the University of Florida, Gainesville, he taught in Florida's public schools. He earned a Master of Arts degree in English, Creative Writing, from the University of Colorado at Boulder, where he was the winner of the Harcourt Brace Jovanovich Award for Fiction (1991). His work has appeared online at Clapboard House Literary Journal, Crazyhorse Literary Journal, and Standards: The International Journal of Multicultural Studies. He is the author of So They Say, a collection of self-contained, inter-connected stories and the short story, They Say You Can Stop Yourself Breathing. Formerly a writing instructor at the University of Colorado’s Writing Program, Mr. Urquhart was, until 2010, a senior analyst for the Judicial Branch of California. He resides in Washington State.

Apertures

By Jack A. Urquhart ©2025For my son, Dillon, on the twelfth anniversary of his passing. Every now and then I capture an image of you, Dillon.As ever, you are hazed, wide-apertured, posed,albeit in a second-hand context:The young barista’s coffee-stained fingers, … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Archives

By Jack A. Urquhart ©2025 For my late husband, Raymond Boyington, on the third anniversary of his passing Arriving in the post today clutch of Kodachrome memories,gift from a friend perhaps clearing, as I cannot,the archives of a shared history,i.e., … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | 2 Comments

If

Copyright 2025 by Jack A. Urquhart Dear Dillon. Dear Son, If you’re listening, if it matters where you are, then I hope you’ll take note: today is March 8th, which would’ve been the 46th anniversary of your birth. If only … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments

An Eye for Life

(For my son-in-law, Aaron Hartzell, 11.09.1974 – 03.10.2024, on the anniversary of his birth) It wasn’t always easy taking a walk with you.Rather, it could be an eye-roll-inducing experience —the way you (camera ever-at-the-ready)tarried to examine every eye-catching blade of … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Alterations

(For Ray)copyright 2024 by Jack A. Urquhart Since you’ve been gone, I have made of You an alter replete with the relics of your life and times: your compass, your slide rule, your red plastic comb (tacky in its donnish … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Eleven

Copyright 2024 by Jack A. Urquhart(for Dillon)This year, it’s eleven.Eleven years since you left.I keep thinking about the significanceof that number. It’s prime, of course, like you, capable of being measured out by no one and nobody, but yourself and … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Calendar Entry

Copyright 2024 by Jack A. Urquhart (For Raymond L. Boyington on the second anniversary of his absence) I calendar your absences,Dear Man (did you know?). I employ the plural, absences, because there are many: One hundred and four Saturdays, a little … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Dillon’s Voice

Copyright 2024 by Jack A. Urquhart March 8, 2024: For Dillon on what would’ve been the 45th anniversary of his birth. For years, I kept recordings of your voice — tapes dating back to preschool and cassettes passed on by … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

One Hundred Fifty-six Weeks, and Four Days

© 2023by Jack A. Urquhart For Raymond L. Boyington on what would’ve been his 82nd birthday (09.25) Sometimes I wonder, do you hear me when I talk to you? Can you feel it when I speak your name? Does the … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Letter from Dad

© 2023 by Jack A. Urquhart August 2, 2023 Dear Clangorous Son, Dear Dillon, The anniversaries keep piling up, don’t they? It’s ten years worth today, ten years of absence — long enough to assemble a shakey colossus of commemoratives. … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment