Monthly Archives: July 2013

No room at the inn his eyes said, no vacancy– downsizing my heart.

Who would have thought I would wear these clothes all day– the ones Lira knocked coffee all  over at breakfast to volcanic chagrin, the ones I pruned ivy in this morning, the ones I sat in, meditating, and drop off … Continue reading →

Our woodpile needs a roof like the ones in New Hampshire to keep the rain off.

I don’t have to say, “I want to go in now” or “I have a cramp” or “We’re out too deep.” My fellow swimmers just follow along, wordlessly paddling in our warm lake of stars.