finding resilience through reading and art practice
musings on the new year
poetry from the window of a train
(hello, it's been a while)
"remember what it was like/when it was safe/to hold you?"
"I try to be a fig / and let myself fall /ripe, / to the ground."
"my veins are the shape of your hands"
"What scars into the wood are bore / what fire, what plague, what of before"
Or, a treatise on loving poems without being an expert
"thin ice outside each car window / shatters clean"
"shining and haloed and / consumed by the dark"
"The tide and flood rises to begrave / the shore and buries well beneath"