A Year of Being Here

It's summer, so the pink gingham shorts, the red mower, the neat rows of clean smelling grass unspooling behind...

If day after day I was caught inside this muffle and hush I would notice how birches move with a lovely hum of spi...

Before us now the edge of the earth, below us the nearly endless cold. Around us nothing but shimmering water, the miles ...

In the vivid red of the fresh berries, in the pebbled skin of an emerald lime, in the bright colors of things made to be transitory, ...