june 24, 2025

I write my final notes on the mixes. We find the missing blue nose of the watering can beneath the stooping leaf of the rhubarb. Earlier in the shower, I said a prayer for the album.

I push our older boy on his yellow swing while my husband uses a shovel to move the body of a yellow finch from beneath our front window. I talk to him while he swings so his eyes won’t wander toward my husband as he passes behind us. With that secret seen to, we go and behold the first orange lily blooming in the secret garden. Death and beauty. Silence and obedience.

The lily and the bird. Humbled, I say another prayer: to be like them.