I silently cast a white
with the new moon
A starless revolution
I waited, visiting in
hanging in the air
Fat Moon –
I rose to melt the frost,
blinked blood and
knew it didn't take.
This untitled poem is an original piece that attempts to express the particularly crisp, acutely bitter ache one can feel after struggling to start or successfully maintain a pregnancy.
Do you enjoy reading and/or writing poetry? I do, and I think I’ll continue to share more of my own to this space.
Two things that have been bringing me joy lately are fresh loaves of bread baked in the Le Creuset Dutch oven Kaleb got me for my birthday this year, and thoughtfully hand-mending my clothing.
For much of my life I prioritized quantity over quality when it came to clothing. I think moving from Arizona to St Thomas, US Virgin Islands, then up to Washington in just under a year forced me to whittle my wardrobe down to versatile basics, pack light each time I moved, and to treat what I have with care – all skills I now consider essential and am grateful for.
This patch is one I ordered from The Far Woods and had been saving for a special occasion. Covering an unfortunate bleach spot on one of my favorite shirts felt like I was finally putting it to good use.