On my front porch the gardens…
luscious carpets are rolled out for bees for painted turtles for indigo buntings. Mary Olivers whistling almost covers the sound of teardrops on the cardboard signs of Manhattan.
Ever Tried. Ever Failed. No Matter.
Try Again, Fail Again, Fail Better
Here I am right over there, running into opportunities to stop running and hoping they keep my scent until my prayers are answered and I am brave enough to slow down.