August, by Mary Oliver
When the blackberries hangswollen in the woods, in the bramblesnobody owns, I spendall day among the highbranches, reachingmy ripped arms, thinkingof nothing, crammingthe black honey of summerinto my mouth; all day my bodyaccepts what it is. In the darkcreeks that run by there isthis thick paw of my life darting amongthe black bells, the leaves; there isthis happy tongue.
Monday:
The little packets of cashews from Trader Joe’s make for such a perfect and reliable snack, especially when traveling.
My rain jacket kept me dry today.
Museums. Every single thing about them. The artists who make art, the patrons who buy art, the creative and administrative staffs, the donors, the members, the visitors, the folks who hang the art and take it down when the time comes, the curators, the guards. All of it, and more. How lucky we are to live in a world with museums.
Now you? Tell me 3 good things?
Xo.