" 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