August 25:: Working Together

WORKING TOGETHER We shape our self to fit this world and by the world are shaped again. The visible and the invisible working together in common cause, to produce the miraculous. I am thinking of the way the intangible air passed at speed round a shaped wing easily holds our weight. So may we, in [...]

A small thing

Into the road without hesitation, the other side as certain as the grass and hawk weed parting there, for the brief passage of fur, ears back, paws leaving and returning to the surface of the soft and grassy earth. And then I was there behind the wheel; unprepared for its smallness, for the sudden quiver [...]

How this began

Going through an old hard drive tonight I found this poem written May 5, 2004… three weeks before I’d find out that I was pregnant with Bean. +++ Today I heard that the Voyager satellite, sent up into space the year before I was born, is now nearing the edge of our solar system. Some [...]

Go out and see

go out and see what is for oneself notice stories trying to fly. +++ What is your story today?

April begins

At 5:43 a.m. I wound the window open so that there were two inches of screen exposed between me and the things of the early morning world: the smell of mud and moisture, and also the song of robins, and the other birds I do not know the names of; and together my boys and [...]

Before you knew what your life was like

Flipping through a book of poems by e.e. cummings I found flower petals by the dozens from a time in my life when love was a dreamy and girlish thing (embodied by the poem, above–one of my favorites.) I wanted to be loved the way e.e. loved his women in his poems. I understood little, [...]

What we have today

The morning comes again, the way it always does: too early, and I am heavy limbed among the flannel sheets. Sprout is kicking next to me, awake with the first light and sucking on his hands. He knows all the secrets of delight. I have yet to arrive entirely in my lumbering body: in the [...]

Morning Poem # 6

Patience is granular like sugar, and every child hungers for it the same way that tongues crave sweet, darting out from parted lips, darting like small boys into traffic or towards sharp sticks, always used with the poorest of judgment (which is also how wars begin) and if it had color, it would be milky [...]