at the end of grief, old love finds you and you’re folded in three like a prayerheld by your thin lace chrysalis this wound –is the door from which you are emerging, soon you will be leaving behind the dry shell that was home nowmake an altar of all the things that broke you place soil from the land that orphanedContinue reading “Descansos”
"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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