Moving through Shadow

It seemed that I was incapable of putting things into words in 2016. I wrote only the papers that I had to submit for professional purposes. I wrote no poems. I answered emails so sporadically that I’m sure people must have thought I disappeared. I wrote in my journal but twice. This space sat empty,…

Mud, buds, and connection

Awaiting the budding of trees, boots caked with dried mud from the last woods walk to see what was sprouting, I sit inside remembering the feeling of summer on my skin.  Early in the morning, the birds are lively outside, their songs pulling me out of sleep.  The tree outside my office is showing the…