I move gently

" . . . The wind changes round, and I stir

Within another's life. Whose life?

Who is dead? Whose presence is living?

When may I fall strangely to earth,

Who am nailed to this branch by a spirit?

Can two bodies make up a third?

To sing, must I feel the world's light?

My green, graceful bones fill the air

With sleeping birds. Alone, alone

And with them I move gently.

I move at the heart of the world.

— James L. Dickey, read the whole poem

"In the Tree House at Night" here

foreground and background

"My foregrounds are imaginary,

my backgrounds are real."

— Gustave Flaubert

not alone

"It's often just enough to be with someone.

I don't need to touch them. Not even talk.

A feeling passes between you both. You're not alone."

— Marilyn Monroe

mums looking down at the end of November

"And the very act of living is a tide;

at first it seems to make no difference at all,

and then one day you look down

and see how much pain has eroded."

— Jodi Picoult, My Sister's Keeper

lilies of the valley

me

shhh, let me tiptoe by