My heart a bird's heart

Halfway through another year, I say a small prayer for your peace, try to notice what's changed and changing, and share two poems about (almost) touching.

This is the shape of the world

We only get so many hours on earth. A finch laid five eggs. I write my poems and try to spend my time wisely while we wait for the world to get good.

The burning world

On bearing witness to atrocity, (para)social death, fearless futures, and three poems by Krista Franklin, Faisal Mohyuddin, and Mathias Svalina.

I know the earth is laughing

There is despair here, audacity too, and hope beyond belief. Also a bunch of recently published poems.

I am writing with both hands

I seen a new bird and I talk to myself. No surprises, just suggestions, plus a poem by Franz Wright.

This we'd call a life

Remember, you're an animal. And one day, maybe, you'll be food.

When the world is flowers

I watched a bee die and did what I could. I listen to poets and give what I can. In this case it's two very short poems about possums.

We salvage ourselves

Recommendations for living. Also twelve questions, one bird, and two poems.

These hands that have always held you

I begin a new decade overcome with love. Everything keeps on happening. One thousand hugs and gorgeous evenings. Also some new work in the world.

Never ate so many stars

A benediction asking Everything, the only god I know, to take care of a friend I never held, and of me, and everyone else. Also a poem that haunts me, gently.

If you go looking

It has come to my attention I love looking at birds, so now it's everyone's problem. Also a poem that sees something in everything, from the last winter I lived in Chicago.

We drove into the sun

Let's say there is a place and you feel at home. Let's say you have a thing or two to learn before you get there. Let's say I wrote a poem. What then?