Dust makes beams of light
visible. Dying leaven
makes our daily bread.
In an of the world 25
The father running
with his child in a stroller
through shadows and light.
In and of the world 24
Ragged white patches
on smooth grey-green plane tree trunk.
Itch to scratch my neck.
Domesticity: February 16, 2020
A daily practice.
Writing as an act
of living compassionately
in and of the world
that is falling apart.
In and of the world 23
The runner in red,
cell-phone in hand. The unheard,
unmourned silent air.
In and of the world 22
A yellow sign reads
“Dead End.” At the end, a sky
blue house, a red light.
In and of the world 21
In the soft breeze of
a warm January day,
trees and I tremble.
