some thoughts on motherhood, marriage, learning to love my own face in the mirror, wondering about the lady in the tangerine coat in the bean aisle at the market, writing - the usual suspects.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
The Coming Of Light
Even this late it happens: the coming of love, the coming of light. You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves, stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows, sending up warm bouquets of air. Even this late the bones of the body shine and tomorrow's dust flares into breath.