pencil crayons at the breakfast table
that crisp line of earl grey sky and greenest field
a frozen window leaf (and their joy of discovery)

sun breaking through “like a ninja”
autumn’s remnants all aglow
this frosty field, the tractor’s silhouette in the morning fog, the brightest ball of fire

first snow!

(i was on the phone when i drove into the flakes, they were sticking to the ground more and more with each concession passed. until the earth was blanketed in the last corner before home. she could hear the glee in my voice “you’re happy aren’t you?!” yes. yes i am. not for winter driving or ice or that fear that constricts me. but. still. joy)

the last wild roses
an endless sunset

the surprising early moon
(i gasped aloud, as i do)

clouds. always the clouds these days

the urge to run
smiling with each desperate breath

those skeleton trees
this fallen log
that rustle

the sounds that only come from stopping

good songs on the drive home radio

loud dinners

boreal cookbooks in the mail

essential oil diffusers

trick or treat scavenger hunts

boxes of old forestry photos
(oh jules you’d love them)

sketching in the bedtime quiet

a dismembered rat (there was a weird sort of fascination)

leg warmers and fleecy tights
the used car i didn’t buy and the kind one
who told me not to

i don’t know if this is my catalogue
of gratitude. or joy.
is there a difference?

joy is all the noticing

and then the gratitude just flows

---

oh, and jules,
for posterity:

you are
all
phoenix
my dear

sooty
and
soaring

sometimes
it’s hard
to see through
all the smoke
of what you
leave
behind

eyes
to
the
sky

tender hand
on
tender heart