My people
Six weeks left in Chicago. Three times I got on the bus. The bus is a metaphor, except when it isn't. Plus a perfect poem by Charif Shanahan.
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I am more with you
We lost two too many this week, at least. I want to tell you about my friend. Then a poem by Andrea Gibson.
Whatever happens
What are we doing? Embracing each other as we are? Holding onto each other for dear life? The answer is yes.
Isn't the moon dark too
We now conclude this brief mental break with a word from/for our friends and body.
A beehive here inside my heart
I sat outside late one morning and saw a billion birds, now it's everyone's problem. Plus some advice for the shifting season, and a poem Molly sent me.