Do you know what I was, how I liv… what despair is; then winter should have meaning for you… I did not expect to survive, earth suppressing me. I didn’t exp…

Look, a butterfly. Did you make a… You don’t wish on butterflies. You do so. Did you make one? Yes. It doesn’t count.

The elements have merged into soli… Spasms of violets rise above the m… And weed, and soon the birds and a… Will be starting to arrive, bereav… South. But never mind. It is not…

Late December: my father and I are going to New York, to the cir… He holds me on his shoulders in the bitter win… scraps of white paper

A child draws the outline of a bod… She draws what she can, but it is… she cannot fill in what she knows… Within the unsupported line, she k… that life is missing; she has cut

Two women with the same claim came to the feet of the wise king. Two women, but only one baby.

You want to know how I spend my t… I walk the front lawn, pretending to be weeding. You ought to know I’m never weeding, on my knees, pu… clumps of clover from the flower b…

In your extended absence, you perm… use of earth, anticipating some return on investment. I must… failure in my assignment, principa… regarding the tomato plants.

Speak to me, aching heart: what Ridiculous errand are you inventin… Weeping in the dark garage With your sack of garbage: it is n… To take out the garbage, it is you…

At the end of my suffering there was a door. Hear me out: that which you call d… I remember. Overhead, noises, branches of the…

In the empty field, in the morning… the body waits to be claimed. The spirit sits beside it, on a sm… nothing comes to give it form agai… Think of the body’s loneliness.

What does the horse give you That I cannot give you? I watch you when you are alone, When you ride into the field behin… Your hands buried in the mare’s

There is always something to be ma… Your mother knits. She turns out scarves in every sha… They were for Christmas, and they… while she married over and over, t…

To say I’m without fear— It wouldn’t be true. I’m afraid of sickness, humiliatio… Like anyone, I have my dreams. But I’ve learned to hide them,