Mornings I place them by the open window close to air and light freshly watered freshly changed. I unfold the sheets and eyes follow
From where I sit, the papaya reveals a green ruff of fruit swelling beneath a loose canopy of green hands catching morning light. The
“Life on earth depends on the sun’s table scraps.” – an article from The Atlantic A litany of our best efforts to repay this:
– photograph, Kevin Carte, 1993 — Because I have never found a story that I can whisper from narthex to altar, I have forgotten