On being the Tortoise in the Race

She knew the river was far too beautiful for her to swim in even before she started the race. The sun, it seemed, had changed the rain to steam. It was like a leaf as it prepares to die. How it turns color so beautifully, how it strains not only eyes, but lips and liver,Continue reading “On being the Tortoise in the Race”

Evening’s Everything

Each baby glows. Wings unfurled, they spring from a crease of clouds. They can’t know what it’s like to see them flying overhead, to see their diapers peel away, their bodies so hairless: to see so much energy, so concentrated in what are, after all, immature muscles. Yet they move more like falcons than kites.Continue reading “Evening’s Everything”