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Monday, April 30, 2018


One of Life’s Great Honors: to Know a Place on Earth Well

its ratio of doom to trees, its fish smell,
its compositional relationship to running girls.
A truly familiar place doesn’t exactly erase you,
but it does begin to ease you into non-existence.

By 10 am it takes precedence over you.
You sweep some porch dust at it and watch the motes as they settle over
the fundamental eventlessness sitting there like a dog.

And behind that dog a mountain. And behind that mountain a slab.

The dumb, carbon basicness that looms over your day, your life.
The background against which you love your family, love yourself.
The fact against which the possibility of you is projected.

It’s sky-like but not sky. It’s matted and hoof-printed
and all that exists besides love.
Because all feelings are love,
though often enough the feeling is damaged by being felt,
by the feeler.


Catie said...

Thank you, all. Thank you, Shanna, for making this space and to everyone for filling it with more and more than I ever dared hope for.

bloof said...

Thank you! A delight & marvel all the way through (as usual). <3