“Life seems to have no beginning and no ending. Only the steady expansion of trunk and root, the slow pileup of duff and debris, the lap of water before it becomes ice, the patter of raindrops before they turn to snowflakes.”
from Woodswoman by Anne LaBastille, 1976
in a mental cue—
one, melting into another,
scraps of memories
vases with faces and pine cones for hats
books strewn here and there about painted houses and childhood ramblings and motorcycle journeys in the sun
coffee brewing and candles burning and fox calls in the dead of night
songs from this album: Madman Across the Water by Elton John, 1971
these books: Back When We Were Grownups by Anne Tyler, 2001
and Death in Kashmir by M. M. Kaye, 1984
home made sourdough crackers
beautiful geraniums and wilting petunias
and a sense of being lost within the walls of a deep dream
Once she’s locked the attic door behind her she feels a sense of release, a crack of light in the darkness. What is the name for what she’s feeling?
She wishes it were liberation.
from The Age of Light, by Whitney Scharer, 2019
When I come across a long lost book, for example I flip to random pages and see if they have anything to tell me.
from Keep Going by Austin Kleon, 2019
kicking leaves on walks
this book: Smoke Gets in Your Eyes by Caitlin Doughty
young bucks eating pumpkins
gathering greens from the fields
a healing pup
words can be so heavy
And I thought, as he reached down to brush the hair from my eyes, the trouble with dreaming is that we eventually wake up.
from The Year of the Monkey, by Patti Smith, 2019