i.
How in the world do we survive
these daily heartbreaks:
a slender tall tree so heavy with apples
it looks like an umbrella
ii.
I only just learned the delightful burst of lemon across the tongue / when biting down on a bundle of wood sorrel / so as I walk down the hill towards Little Italy / and notice its delicate green peek / from the cracks on that big brick wall / I think about the ways Earth provides for us:
so correct / so unexpected
iii.
For so long I scoffed at poetry as medicine, as
anything short of ribs wrenched from our torsos
But I’ll ask you again:
which is more sacred,
the wound or the healing?