Leave it up to the Moon, to give or take. To gift or strip away as She pleases. She knows better the story held inside your bones. Leave it up to the Moon, the building and the breaking down – the monthly shedding as parts of you fall and new ones grow. She knows betterContinue reading “thoughts of summer and fatherlessness”
"May my body be for what it was intended: an expression of Your grace. And what small ways I make with this poetry – what songs and friendships I form, what migrations and ripples I disturb in the world – may they have something of Your signature on them"
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