Tag Archives: resilience

Barometric

Word from you aches like an old injury, a bone broken and healed but never again unassailable, ever sensitive to the plummeting pressure your proximity announces, the atmospheric disturbance of your many promises, breaking. Sheltered by time and space, I nonetheless roil at your slightest approach. An obstinate naivete persists, trusting as a newborn, set […]

How not to complain

Too tired to ripen, late tomatoes hang obdurately green from withered vines,  their yellowing lattice home, now, to an orb-weaver, Araneus gemmoides,  whose tiny cat face, etched on her ballooning abdomen, blesses me when I kneel to consider each sacrifice on the gossamer altar: What’s required to live, and what, to die; whether it’s the […]

If this be the sea

If this be the sea into which you are cast, swim. Do not flounder about like some terrestrial ninny, trembling for lack of solid ground, forgetful of your vestigial gills. Dive. Your best ancestor, one generation removed from God, shone in breathless space, and those more recent loved the capacious and fluid grace of water. […]

Even the broken tree

Even the broken tree blossoms, not one second wasted on the reckless raccoon, who might have thought of something but its own rascal pleasure, which snapped the delicate trunk, ruined the graceful form. Yet even the broken tree blossoms, and see how new leaders, lanky and hopeful, reach toward capricious skies, offering themselves as the […]

Courage

The January 31, 1955 cover of Sports Illustrated featured a fresh-faced young skier, blonde curls falling languidly over her sun-and-snow tanned forehead, blue eyes meeting the photographer’s lens with a seriousness that belied her exuberant personality. Her name was Jill Kinmont, and at 18, she was the national slalom champion and a likely medal contender in […]

Victory Number 360(2021)

I decide to get up, despite the mental miasma, the obdurate inner chatter: Mass extinction. Global warming. The pandemic. Everyone who died; everyone who will. Everyone. . How, neatly named and categorized, we proceed to hate each other. Though you did treat me horribly. I deserved so much better. The cat yawns, stretches. This again. […]

Might you yet

  Some lives are beautiful, even in ruin. Poppies after hail, bright heads in tatters, uplifted, and from the crushed mouths of lilacs, still that sweet scent. After the storms, might you turn your broken face once more toward hidden sun, praise with bruised lips the likewise battered world? Might you yet be beautiful?

Courage

The January 31, 1955 cover of Sports Illustrated featured a fresh-faced young skier, blonde curls falling languidly over her sun-and-snow tanned forehead, blue eyes meeting the photographer’s lens with a seriousness that belied her exuberant personality. Her name was Jill Kinmont, and at 18, she was the national slalom champ and a likely medal contender in […]

Mike’s grave

Up the hill from my home is a cemetery opening onto a foothills trail that leads to a high school track, where a runner long sidelined might begin again, might test against age and injury the possibility of recovery, or at least resilience.   And then might walk home through the cemetery, but not before stopping […]

How it’s done

Meteorological madness, it was, the warnings accreting like worries, overlapping, tumbling into ominous air,  hushed and heavy as portents: Severe thunderstorms. Flash floods. Tornadoes. Streetlights cleaved the midday dark, and when the mouths of the sky opened, they shouted awesome as if Nature were angry at its word being co-opted, diminished, applied to every unworthy […]