“My focus, as I get older—is unlearning.”
A line from a recent conversation from my dear, wise friend.
Unlearning
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Excerpt from: Birds of America
An exquisite cup, less than two inches across, of felted plant, fern or dandelion-seed down, covered so perfectly with moss and lichens and fastened with spider webs as to appear a mere protuberance on the limb, and lined with a layer of the finest down.
from Birds of America, 1936 – Garden City Publishing Company, Inc.
Mended
what is broken, may be mended
Lately
marbles and crystals,
oak tree shadows on an unmade bed,
snow drops and snow flakes
and red velvet cupcakes
on a happy winter afternoon
Winter Through the Window in March
at first, it is heavy winter
and then it is lightly not winter–
lasting a tiny moment, allowing the crocuses and the snowdrops
to sing their siren songs of spring,
knowing all the while—
it will be winter through the window in March again
Excerpt from: Damage
“Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive.”
from Damage by Josephine Hart, 1991
In the End
everything ends—but even in the end, there can be beauty
Cracks
yes, there were cracks in the foundation
Sometimes
sometimes,
thoughts seem brittle
Morning Light
she writes poems with her eyes closed
in the darkness of the night,
but the words escape her memory
with the early-morning light
spanishwoods 