What's In My Journal
[William Stafford]
...Evidence to hang me, or to beatify.
Clues that lead nowhere, that never connected
anyway. Deliberate obfuscation, the kind
that takes genius. Chasms in character.
Loud omissions. Mornings that yawn above
a new grave. Pages you know exist
but you can't find them. Someone's terribly
inevitable life story, maybe mine.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
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To Mom
Who would have thought, when years had passed, and you had left this world for good, I'd find such comfort remembering the way it felt ...
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It's already mid-June, and here I am in Hudsonville (the library--my oldest, dearest haunt), bereft of full time employment, my life a s...
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The cranberry red minivan had acquired a shimmy in recent years--a fact that its driver, Abraham, regarded in much the same way he regarded ...
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A few nights ago I had a long visit with some work friends. For awhile, our conversation engaged the topic of what God's purpose could ...
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