DiaBLOGue

You Heal

One morning you wake 
and everything works 
and almost nothing hurts. 
After seven months of returning 

Things Happen

Things happen. Early in the world you travel into them. One day
You rise without prayer in a far camp and silently hurry away.
Having slept under stars and still breathing the greyed fire,
Who would take time to suppose this the middle of a lifetime?

The Six-Buck Fortune

I remember that day perfectly—every violet plum with its orange smudges, the rim of the huge blue canning kettle smeared with thick yellow slime and little tatters of purple peel. It was the day I…