Write About An Empty Bird Cage Write about an empty birdcage. As in: write about your ribcage after robbery. Use negative space to wind a song from the place on the dresser where a music box isn’t. Write about the corners where the two of you used to meet. Draw the intersections, arrow to the… Continue reading Elaina M. Ellis
People’s memories are maybe the fuel they burn to stay alive. — Haruki Murakami, Afterdark. (Knopf, 2004)
This evening, I sat by an open window and read till the light was gone and the book was no more than a part of the darkness. I could easily have switched on a lamp, but I wanted to ride this day down into night, to sit alone and smooth the unreadable page with the… Continue reading Ted Kooser
The river is within us, the sea is all about us — T. S. Eliot, from “The Dry Salvages,” The Four Quartets. (Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1971) Originally published 1943.
You see, my mind takes me far, but my heart dreams of return. — Henri Cole, from “Twilight,” You see, my mind takes me far, but my heart dreams of return. — Henri Cole, from “Twilight,” Pierce the Skin: Selected Poems, 1982-2007 (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2010) Pierce the Skin: Selected Poems, 1982-2007 (Farrar, Straus… Continue reading Henri Cole
A person doesn’t die when he should but when he can. — Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude. (Harper & Row, 1970)
Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep. I am in a thousand winds that blow, I am the softly falling snow. I am the gentle showers of rain, I am the fields of ripening grain. I am in the morning hush, I am in the graceful… Continue reading Mary Elizabeth Frye