A reluctant blessing, in the form of a new poem.
A poem for the sky, and all of us who are missing it. Part of The Memory Book Project.
New poem, on the flip side of love. CW: grief. Also fire.
Honestly, this is more like a backwards valentine to winter.
This is a new feeling for me: my work in print, offering me resonances I couldn’t have seen when it was only alive in my own head. Asking me what, exactly, I was thinking.