What was on the wall that day.
A crow tried to share its breakfast with me today. I declined politely.
Yellow jacket landed on my arm. I held still. He left.
The crisp edge of a grilled cheese.
My father's reading glasses on the kitchen table. Always there. Always slightly crooked. I have them in a drawer.
A whitetail buck stood at the edge of the woods. The dogs didn't see him. He let me see him.
Sandhill cranes overhead at dusk. The sound is older than language.
Grateful for whoever invented sleep masks. Whole night, deep dark, dreams.
My friend brought soup when I was sick. She knew exactly how I take it.
Today, bright and sunny. My coffee in hand. Sitting outside. Thinking about how blessed I am even with all that I didn't want in my life, how truly blessed I am to be here today.
My partner sits with my dad at family parties. He listens to the same stories. He never tells me he's heard them.
My doctor switched out a medicine that was making me foggy. I have my mornings back.
Free public libraries are the best invention of the last thousand years and we just keep having them.