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Ridiculously Alive I am thinking about the small spaces I inhabit and the tiny things I see every day—the very stones on the road. I am thinking that I will continue to reject that which insults my soul— this gets easier every year. I am turning my mind instead to everything that is now living— my husband on the couch, reading the paper, the dogs, softly snoring beside us, the late summer crickets, with their fading serenade. Everything, I know, dies but this does not grieve me right now— Because at this moment, everything is so brilliantly, almost ridiculously, alive.
Windows Are Open Windows are wide open— to the trees, to the birds, to the day Only this world, Only to praise it. Tunneling deep into my own exhaustion, I find I can barely lift a pen. Mr. Crow cleaves in half this day, and a small dog slumbers against my back. There’s something to be said for loving your life, exactly as it is— these dogs, these songs, this summertime.
Karen Friedland’s books include Places That Are Gone (Nixes Mate Books, 2019)
Copyright 2020 Karen Friedland