How gently I move the volunteer sproutsout of the potato bed and into another row,careful to gather the fragile roots with a bitof damp dirt, tamping lightly around the slender stem.How fragile it all can be. I think of how tenderlythis morning my husband touched my face,as if too well aware of how a single […]
It’s because to try to describe this feeling is to render it instantly dull, flat. It’s like when you see a rock on the bottomof the river—all shimmering and bright—but the moment you bring it to the airto share it, what seemed precious becomes cloudy, mundane, a dumb lump,the stuff of filler in a suburban parking lot. And so […]
Sometimes the worst doesn’t happen. The flash flood doesn’t flow through the first floor of your home. The bear doesn’t tear into your tent. But sometimes the train comes around a bend, hits a rockfall and comes off the track. Sometimes the rocket explodes in roiling orange fireball of methane fuel.Sometimes the car launches from the highway into the air and […]
Tonight I can’t see the shape of the moonbehind a cluster of clouds, but I see the bright radiance seeping through the edges and know the moon is there—that is how it is when I speak out loud to my father and son. Hi Dad, I say. Hi Finn. I love you. I miss you. And aren’t you so proud of our […]
for Vivian Already she knows terrible things happen. Already she knows the pleasure of scramblingin the woods at night with friends and singingtoo loud and making bad choices that are sometimesexactly the right choices. She knows sobs and silliness. She knows how much humans can hurteach other. She knows how a touch or a tenderword erases nothing but […]
Knowing it will grow back tomorrowdoes not stop me from pullingthe bindweed today. Once I pulled bindweed as if the goal was to clear it from the garden. Now, I pull bindweed as if the goal is to love this act of being alive, this ritual of pulling bindweed, my daughter beside me, soft easy chatter rising between us. There is no […]
with thanks to the makers of Your Attention, Please I go to the hillside at the end of the valleyand sit beside the gray stone with his name on it.I am in need of deep grounding.My beloved friend comes alongside. We siton the ground beside the grave, frothy white seeds of dandelions clinging to our clothes.We sit […]
So soft and sweet the scent of this lilac’s first bloomI stop trying to praise it and instead breathe it in— the eager vibration of hummingbird wingssays everything.