Love of the world is so clearly come and go,
the way we talk sounds beautiful and sad.
You have to try these three words before you can
say the harder thing.
The air at evening crumbles into rose flakes.
The wind like a child’s breath.
This is cement. It’s almost hard now, but when it’s new, it’s soft.
If we step in it then it’ll be there forever.
To describe is to praise, I’ve always felt that.
Two crows fly up and disappear into the depths of the redwood.
Talking with Sarah in bed I touch her hair.
How often do we use the word “safe” each day? Thanks,
a walk sounds nice. When I write this
winter I trace lines of motion I conclude
I’ve lived. My mentor tells me I am
more than a series of inclinations,
twilight knotted with dislikes.
Thank you for reading The Nation
We hope you enjoyed the story you just read, just one of the many incisive, deeply-reported articles we publish daily. Now more than ever, we need fearless journalism that shifts the needle on important issues, uncovers malfeasance and corruption, and uplifts voices and perspectives that often go unheard in mainstream media.
Throughout this critical election year and a time of media austerity and renewed campus activism and rising labor organizing, independent journalism that gets to the heart of the matter is more critical than ever before. Donate right now and help us hold the powerful accountable, shine a light on issues that would otherwise be swept under the rug, and build a more just and equitable future.
For nearly 160 years, The Nation has stood for truth, justice, and moral clarity. As a reader-supported publication, we are not beholden to the whims of advertisers or a corporate owner. But it does take financial resources to report on stories that may take weeks or months to properly investigate, thoroughly edit and fact-check articles, and get our stories into the hands of readers.
Donate today and stand with us for a better future. Thank you for being a supporter of independent journalism.
