Most Days I Want to Live by Gabrielle Calvocoressi
"And I said, / Then, gosh. What’s the point? / The flowers themselves, / I suppose."
To Be Held by Linda Hogan
"the way a tree always shelters the unborn life / waiting for the healing / after the storm / which has been our life."
Wild Oats by W.S. Merwin
"September when the wind / drops and to us it seems / that the days are waiting / I needed my mistakes / in their own order / to get me here"
Notebook Fragments by Ocean Vuong
"Woke up screaming with no sound. The room filling with a bluish water / called dawn."
Sometimes by Mary Oliver
"Two or three times in my life I discovered love. / Each time it seemed to solve everything. / Each time it solved a great many things / but not everything."
from The Flowering of the Rod by H.D.
"I go where I belong, inexorably, / as the rain that has lain long // in the furrow"
Lonelily Lonely
And maybe it’s just me, and the rain perhaps, or the way lonely people seem even lonelier whenever it rains: I felt sad, sad in a way that I’ve never been in a long time.
Eros by Louise Glück
"I wanted only this: / the room, the chair, the sound of the rain falling, / hour after hour, in the warmth of the spring night."