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“Tomorrow when the farm boys find this
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass. And
as he stares into the sky, there are
twice as many stars as usual.”
― The Weight of a Soul
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass. And
as he stares into the sky, there are
twice as many stars as usual.”
― The Weight of a Soul
“A river seems a magic thing. A magic, moving, living part of the very earth itself.”
―
―
“The Two-headed Calf
Tomorrow when the farm boys find this
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass.
And as he stares into the sky, there
are twice as many stars as usual.”
―
Tomorrow when the farm boys find this
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass.
And as he stares into the sky, there
are twice as many stars as usual.”
―
“Spring Cleaning
All morning
I have been pulling
skeletons out of the closet
the old bones that
keep me awake at night
the old faces I see
in my dreams.
But in the closet
there are only old letters
old clothes that don’t fit
boxes of souvenirs
postcards of favorite places
Dust stirs in the corners
like a secret heart
trying to beat again.
Wreckage from an old war
I sit like a widow
sifting through it
touching the skeletons
for the last time.
It is spring and
time to let go of them
let the closet billow
with fresh air.
And if it’s true
that the past is
always with us
then let it be
invisible as an angel.
But first I must
bury these old bones.”
―
All morning
I have been pulling
skeletons out of the closet
the old bones that
keep me awake at night
the old faces I see
in my dreams.
But in the closet
there are only old letters
old clothes that don’t fit
boxes of souvenirs
postcards of favorite places
Dust stirs in the corners
like a secret heart
trying to beat again.
Wreckage from an old war
I sit like a widow
sifting through it
touching the skeletons
for the last time.
It is spring and
time to let go of them
let the closet billow
with fresh air.
And if it’s true
that the past is
always with us
then let it be
invisible as an angel.
But first I must
bury these old bones.”
―
“You knew there were no words
for what had to be said.”
―
for what had to be said.”
―
“Tomorrow when the farm boys find this
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass. And
as he stares into the sky, there are
twice as many stars as usual.”
―
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass. And
as he stares into the sky, there are
twice as many stars as usual.”
―
