I called it being good. I called it being careful. I called it small red squirrel, copper tail in pine trees. Unexpected warm breeze. How I moved through the house always, as if at night, to keeping the sleeping still. I called my shame a secret. I called it fear. I called it I should …
This morning, I fill the sink with cold water and vinegar, swirl flavorless strawberries until my hand grows numb. I am trying now to save things, even pesticide-laden fruit, even us. It is only October and last nightit snowed an ugly snow, thin and resentful. I hated it. It was nothing like that surprise snow …