grief

FIVE HUNDRED AND TWENTY SEVEN

Thanks, by W.S. Merwin. Listen with the night falling we are saying thank you we are stopping on the bridges to bow from the railings we are running out of the glass rooms with our mouths full of food to look at the sky and say thank you we are standing by the water thanking it standing by the windows looking out inContinue reading “FIVE HUNDRED AND TWENTY SEVEN”

FOUR HUNDRED AND EIGHTY SIX

Nick Cave on grief, via Austin Kleon. I feel the presence of my son, all around, but he may not be there. I hear him talk to me, parent me, guide me, though he may not be there. He visits Susie in her sleep regularly, speaks to her, comforts her, but he may not beContinue reading “FOUR HUNDRED AND EIGHTY SIX”