I can’t tell you who I was, and hardly who I am. But I understand the half-moon suspended in the blue-day sky—it strikes me as a nervy sort of rebellion, endeavoring to glow out of turn. Remarkably, the sun carries on undeterred, gracious. It’s useful to be reminded of all the things worth knowing without… Continue reading Glow Out of Turn
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Aren’t We
The coffee shop woman, usually so full of radiant light, had heavy eyes and when I asked why she told me first about how things had grown so dire back home, with no fuel or food, and she couldn’t reach her family. In place of fear she then smiled and asked me what she could… Continue reading Aren’t We
May We, Then
Towards what, is this marchinexorable? The relentlessclamor of the days’ chatteraway, and I have tenancy in the mundane—folding the laundry while listeningto social commentary by thoughtleaders on the radio—a juxtaposition.I’m afraid, comma. Or, I’m afraid, semi-colon. Regardless, this shallow excavation ofmy thoughts, really so many thoughts, limping into words with what latentmeaning. I want to say… Continue reading May We, Then
caroline ridgway 