Grackle. Graceful.
Religion shifts into commerce, politics.
Living religiously shifts elsewhere.
This green world.
In the grass to my left, a white and orange cat reclines.
"Some mother's son."
Tumescent moons.
Braying donkeys on the other side of the river, audible half a mile away. My heart, my wallet, my shoes.
Who is frightened of "who."
Shadows of me typing.
Was it yesterday or the day before a fox crept up alongside the goldenrod before noticing me noticing it and turning back.
Slips of forest. Lakefront property values.
Waiting on Jesus no more, and other declarations of freedom.
Shopping lists, shaving kits.
I remember giving you head in a field in Vermont at dusk and you said after "the sky was full of birds."
Reciprocity matters.
We are looking around, thinking things over, we are setting ourselves up for joy.
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