I brought together this poem today, aggregate of a bunch of thoughts over multiple days that weren’t related explicitly but that were, and now here they are together and thematic. There’s something about it that holds me, no, I’m not sure it’s done, but I feel like I’ve done something here, not sure what, but yeah. I like.

“Things I Don’t Know What To Do With”, James Bowden

“Ash Ode”, Dean Young

I really really like this poem.

From Maria Popova: Enough to honey a day. How lovely. A picture of a leaf, illuminated, sun. I should like to use this phrase.

“After the Fire”, Ada Limon

It is funny how I, we, hold onto grief in the face of emptiness, for at least it is intensity of some kind.

From Molly Brown: I feel myself coming unstitched from the world. I can’t seem to make myself adjust. Topical, but also reminds me of this one line I remember so clearly from Howl’s Moving Castle, when Sophie is like, I just can’t seem to stop crying in this so gentle crystal voice and ow.