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Evergreen trees take a solemn stance, seem to long for rain in their crooked row, seem to pity the quivering cottonwood leaves, and decline to change for the coming snow.
May I see through the dark, without even looking. May I hear above the noise, without even listening. May I know beyond a doubt, without even thinking. May I trust in myself, without even trying.
Sometimes a rainstorm reminds me to sit in easy solitude as you have shown me. They might assume you were once a bohemian clown with squash blossoms braided around your ankles, the way you lean back and cross your legs, bringing that demitasse cup… Continue Reading “Sometimes A Rainstorm”
Dear Diary, rainy morning, early, dreary. The light coming through the water’s surface was the loveliest I’ve seen. I’m exhausted, drained. Aphrodite took it all out of me, then she took me on a wooden ship and showed me the absurdities of Men. Now… Continue Reading “Poseidon”
Mary, who helps us remember tenderness when we find an insect on our pillow, or a bat in the house. Mary, who reminds us of a hundred walks in the wilderness, even as we stare at lamp-lit sheetrock and worry about work. Mary, who tells us what we knew the moment we… Continue Reading “Six Thoughts On Mary Oliver”
Here’s a little something I wrote in honor of my high school English teacher, Constance Person. It was a big class in a big high school in the big city, and I was terrified of being called upon. I was a shy country mouse… Continue Reading “Constance”