Pillow
My OwlMan, so depressed all day and almost no appetite at dinner.
Preparing the bed for him, I see the outline of his head in his pillow, and realize, Someday that is all that will remain—the space where he used to be.
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Birdy moment
In this house of wonderful tall windows, it can feel like living inside a snowglobe, only with cats and dust
Ruth Stone
Scanning a list of women poets this morning, I pause at Ruth Stone. I heard her read her work decades
Invisible
Sometimes it seems I could be the only person on the planet. Stepping out on the deck past dusk, in
Orb weavers
A week ago, a young man speaking of orb weavers in a deep ditch, hundreds of them, golden-yellow, their webs
All the bears
Early morning, my husband half-waking out of sleep to tell me, “All the bears are dead.”
I’m a bear-lover,
Birthday
Today I become the age that my mother was when she died.
Logically, I know it means nothing. We two,
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