More than once, I’ve felt the night slip closed around me— not a comfort, exactly—& looked up into a sky I cannot refuse.
On birds and beaches and shifting baselines, navy bases, and the tangled wrackline of that feeling: home.
Snowy plovers, burrowing owls, and a complicated relationship with the Star-Spangled Banner.
True/False/Yes: "All spiritual problems are creative problems, and all creative problems are spiritual problems."
Two grateful returns. A friend carried with me. The least reading I've done in some weeks, and the best.