Mornings at my table, afternoons in the river

      When I take a few days to do something solitary, I'm astounded at the effect. 

       I planned these 3 days thinking that I would write non-stop, but I actually swam 

       in a green-blue river for hours, wandered its bank, and sat on a big flat rock--

       knee-deep in the water and "noodling"--going from one idea to another, 

       trying on memories--holding them up to the light. 

Some evenings go on forever

        

       There are so many things that I love about summer, but perhaps the best thing

        is the way that hours seem to open out and expand--a day goes on for more 

        than 24 hours and evenings last forever. This counterweight to the rush 

        of time offers a wordless pleausre--like an open hand holding out 

        just one apricot, speckled and golden, sweet in the mouth.

Each day carries

its own sweetness.

When we talk about love

it's easy to lose sight of what it might look like over time--over days and nights and years--
but the longer I'm alive the more I cherish this through line of devotion--

a bright gold thread stitched through darkness, holding everything together.