Tuesday, August 2, 2022


Imagine the nerve it takes to be a deer in this town. To wake up somewhere hidden each day, then to be obvious and also to melt in, to be prey, to be beautiful and almost innocent, with a spotted baby to care for, crossing roads to look for something that doesn’t seem to exist, getting used to grief, to cling to the idea of a peace that doesn’t seem to exist except in the pure joy of sunlight and shade in the leaves, and the miracle of finding flowers in a garden someone forgot to cover with a fence.

No comments:

Post a Comment