neatly, carefully

old lullaby songs are playing

raining

it's been good, quiet

loosening through water running through lay a little bit closer through

cool fall-coming breeze in the 

windows

the prints on her toes recovering

the bird in my heart, reborn, reverse and then,

verse.

our friend is home from spain

i finished my last undergraduate class

sensory processing is a term of comfort and patience, growing

good letters come in the mail, pen hits paper so many times during the day

bodies are strangely shaped

singing while i wash the dishes

singing her to sleep

we haven't packed much and we're moving very soon (not far)

i wonder, if my heart is held prisoner and if i've buried the key and long since forgotten where,

i might do better to become small, to slip my way in and collect it in small pieces

threads that have woven themselves into her pulse, her hair, her freckles, her soft baby cheeks and Big Questions

and the caffeine intolerance

folding and unfolding

gratitude

folding

and unfolding

so much life is happening

so little of it fit for words beyond these pieces, offerings

it's been nice to turn off the computer

to swallow the day all my own

i see so much hope in her eyes