Broken but Still Blooming

Sometime last year, I found a blooming whisper beneath a broken gutter. She brought a pale yet warm light to an otherwise dank, dark place and I left in absolute awe of her strength, will, and bravery. I'd forgotten about her until an aimless wander yesterday which led me to her again. My girl, I …

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In Orbit

It’s 3:30 in the afternoon on a clear, late-spring day in Texas which means that it’s painfully bright outside. That’s not to say I’m not grateful for the sunshine, but it’s times like this I wish I’d just go ahead and get myself some prescription sunglasses. In quarantine, I have yet to wear my contacts …

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Brakes

I’ve no idea the time of day. Through the slits in the shutters it’s light, but dim. Maybe it’s cloudy or maybe we’re dipping towards the evening. I really have no idea. Although I can’t see them, I know my eyes are swollen because even that dusty blue light trickling in burns the backs of …

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Polka-Dots

I know of a shore that harbors magic: an old, forgotten magic that lies dormant beneath the rocks and pebbles of all shades and sizes. They sit atop the sand at least two feet deep and two miles long. In my memory, I return there often. The Atlantic whips the coast with salty daggers and …

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Sweet Girl

For the third day in a row, it’s pouring. My grumpy donkeys huddle together in the barn as the rain batters the tin roof so loud that it rattles my bones---it must be deafening to their large ears. After piling their feeders with extra hay in lieu of typical grazing time, I pull the hood …

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sit

you want to perch upon that branch the one which overlooks the meadow where even when it rains, rabbits skip between flowers, unbothered but to rest to observe means stillness silence steadiness you can't grip the mug between your hands without spilling over the edges shaking unconscious unconscious so sit. sit with it. sit with …

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Afternoon Pause

It’s a typical late-Texas summer on an early, weekday afternoon where leaves hang completely still from the treetops. The chickens have dug small holes outside of their coop in which to rest (the dirt beneath the surface being much cooler than anywhere else they may find) while the ducks drift gently in their pond with …

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Softness

I’m sitting in my spot---the one in the far, left nook of the couch by the window that looks out towards the donkey’s barn and pasture---as my coffee cools and the night is swelling into its final, heavy moments before the prick of dawn. I spent the fifteen or so minutes before this trying to …

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It’s You, Baby

It’s morning rush hour as I inch along in my gray car on a 10-lane, gray highway beneath a swollen, gray sky. The whole world is a heavy gray and the weight of it all seems to rest right in the center of my gut which turns with a groaning sound. Start, stop, start, stop. …

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Roots

It’s a chilly afternoon and I’ve finally decided to clear the weeds and old roots from the garden in order to prepare for a new, spring crop. My fall garden was a bust: I didn’t do enough research on planting in sticky, gumbo soil and we had a bizarre, hard freeze in mid-November which killed …

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