Thursday, November 13, 2014

if you want to experience days flying away with all of us on their back

just love a child over the years, and the secret workings of time will be
laid out to your wondering, grieving, eyes.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Sunday, August 24, 2014

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Friday, August 8, 2014

Sunday, July 27, 2014

One evening in summer,

the breeze came up and all I could hear was the fish jumping.

In passing,

a brightness that seems to predict good fortune.
(thanks to K and D for sharing)

Saturday, July 19, 2014

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Sunday, July 6, 2014

A force of nature

Seeing her and the horse under the same hot sky, 
I suddenly understood so much more about this time.

Saturday, June 28, 2014

Stretch out wherever you find yourself at the end of the day.

When we go to the beach, the waves carry me into another state of mind--and once again, 

I’m in my kid-body--just noticing how the water feels, combing the sand for shells 

and shark teeth, oblivious to wild hair and the layer of salt and grit 

that coats my legs and everything I own.

Sunday, June 8, 2014


I've always enjoyed reading the signs of life when I go to a friend's house, or even 
wandering through my own digs. A kind of sideways portrait emerges.

Saturday, May 3, 2014

Once you fall in love with Dutch still-lifes

you begin to see them everywhere, and to hear the cry of time fleeing 
as you gaze at fruit so ripe, flowers that open for one bright day. 

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Persephone's postcard:

We curve around our sleep like bulbs in the ground
with their invisible, incipient, leaves--not ready to push into the world above.

Monday, March 10, 2014

A certain gesture

will sometimes throw me back to another time with another love.

Her collector's eye is like my sister's, and the delicate seed pods 

with their ghostly sheen, remind me how quickly it all speeds by.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

When it snows all plans are off

and it's astonishing how happy this makes me. All my neighbors were out in the park
with their kids and their dogs and suddenly we were an impromptu tribe, and I was
almost drunk with a sense of possibility that is rare in my jam-packed grown-up life. 

Monday, February 3, 2014

Standing at the edge of something big

I hold onto these brilliant afternoons when I'm feeling shrouded and directionless. 
Somewhere this pulse continues and we're all standing close to the edge, 
ready to step out in joy.