2023

Giclee-printed photograph with archival inks on 100% cotton paper in a reclaimed-wood frame

The old wood swing shapes the air.

A parabola grows.

A tree branch begins to bud,

a hand pushes,

another reaches back,

and shadows give chase.

There is loss, rooted in every detail,

as the swing reaches for its vertex, its zenith,

its apogee and apex, vertiginous all the while,

these words rare enough in a life

refusing to be smaller, constrained, predetermined.

What is the turning point? Still,

let this loss be your strength. Still,

let this splintering become a vector pointing the way.

Warm your feet. Hold watermelon on your tongue. Breathe

deeply. Truly see the color blue, its possibilities, a bridge

from the ordinary to the extraordinary. Repeat.

Repeat. These smooth grief’s sharp points, the before

and after. Divide your grief, let it flow from your body.

Captured impermanence -- futurity at play -- is

the tension of a line running from heedless headlong girlhood

into womanhood.