Keep watch over your children. Forget about linger and loaf. Think of all the yeses you’ve spoken. Aim to be small. Remember loving the sound of some place: a hum or a whoosh. When the men come, when they swell, chests puffed full of gospeled breath, let them come.
Be broken like kindling. Remember your mother’s perfume. Think of the hills, deep and lasting. Keep watch over your feet. Slink into the cracks in the sidewalk. Be mud.