August 2023

August 2023

Another day, another baptism. Down to the river and back. Dripping up the ivy steps and on the kitchen floor.

Another day cooking in the heat. Holding it safe and storing it up for winter. It’s coming.

Another baptism, but only a splash. Every thirsty, breathing thing has been praying for rain, and how ever much we get is not enough.

Another night rocking the girl to sleep.

Another pile of laundry to step over in the morning.

Another call. Another quiet. Another come and go.

Another day, another baptism and not enough doves to see to them all--so the wrens come, and the heron, and the crows. Maybe her god isn’t late. Maybe the whole thing got canceled.

Thank all there are no perfect days. Thank all we get to try again. I’d do every day again with her if all of them were in August. Send us both back to the river, back to sleep.

Another please,

the apple house