
whisper soft again, friend
describe cold smoke, warm mother
blue-glazed bowl of soup
another cat in the window
dusty fan-blown strands

whisper soft again, friend
describe cold smoke, warm mother
blue-glazed bowl of soup
another cat in the window
dusty fan-blown strands

one time i stood
under a flowering pear tree
in my wild backyard
and thought, this is good.
it was warm
and i’d just finished nursing my baby girl.
she heavy-slept in a sling
on my freckled chest.
her hair was red
and my feet were bare.

“What she needs are stories.
Stories are a way to preserve one’s self. To be remembered. And to forget.
Stories come in so many forms: in charcoal, and in song, in paintings, poems, films. And books.
Books, she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives—or to find strength in a very long one.”
—The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab
For the month of April, my model was my dear friend Bonnie. I met her when she was just in high school and I’ve had the pleasure of watching her grow into a giving, talented, hard-working young woman. Bonnie is the kind of person who gathers others to her. She cultivates community, has a wonderful sense of humor, and is a fierce defender of kindness. Her friends call her a silly goose, which fits her, but she’s also the very thing Shakespeare talked about when he said “though she be but little, she is fierce.”
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