Monday, July 11
EVERYTHING Most of us are never conceived. Many of us are never born--- we live in a private ocean for hours, weeks, with our extra or missing limbs, or holding our poor second head, growing from our chest, in our arms. And many of us, sea-fruit on its stem, dreaming kelp and whelk, are culled in our early months. And some who are born live for only minutes, others for two, or for three, summers, or four, and when they go, everything goes---the earth, the firmament--- and love stays, where nothing is, and seeks. (Sharon Olds)