" Is the soul solid, like iron?
Or is it tender and breakable, like
the wings of a moth in the beak of the owl?"
from Some Questions You Might Ask
by Mary Oliver
" But in memory, the safe places never fall into themselves. They
remain warmly lit by lantern. Burlap bags always full of potatoes,
damp wooden shelves jewelled with jars of preserves."
from Winter Morning Walks, february 24
by Ted Kooser