Let us not be remembered by one word: ruin.

Tomorrow, I will kiss this ground and sing its praises. I will give it my tears and joy alike. I will thank it for sustaining life and for allowing me to come home.

Outside, children turn the last of the snow into snowballs.

Hayden just tried to eat the baby Jesus ornament that’s hanging on our Buddhist Christmas tree.

It can be hard to tell if something is done with intention or for attention.

I stopped reading poetry, and the world closed. Then I read a single poem, and the world opened again.

My mind is wind.

Change your language and you change everything.

We have no business in the sky, but there we are, imitating birds.