
But for this breath
This morning smells like back to school.
The light has tilted,
gilding the sides of school buses
until they glow—brilliant
against a sky that has
rinsed itself a deeper blue overnight.

What is that feeling?
What if there was a deck of cards that was part poetry, part glossary—widely specific and also universal? Something that can help name, discern, discover relational dynamics.
I’m working on one.
