Fracture

How we wound ourselves

gripping freedom by the blade

our clumsy fear

jabs the hilt

into the bruises

of those we would love

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I'm not entirely sure where that came from, but it might as well go here. (The photo is from Raptor Watch 2007 in Port Dickson, when I was interning at a newspaper.)

A more representative excerpt from my day would be:

This morning my bowl of oatmeal slipped from my hand and broke in half. I hotfooted it to the bathroom to wash the cereal off my shins. When I came back downstairs, the floor was clean. The puppy was happy. I was happy. My GRE book was slightly damp and cinnamony. God is good.