the hang of it

I will myself to remember the contour

of this beast with no beginnings

this longing even when all is given 
even when nothing is desired

I really have no reason to remember 

the safe, ordinary history of today 

cautious happiness, habitual beauty 

its precious and explicit luck

I taste the escaped words, their notions 

of emptiness and openings  

in the release of the first silver raindrop

its receipt splattering in the dirt

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Pic: CC's view of The Red Cedar from her canoe. All of the feelings for the beauty of this day and the heartbreak of the news...