One Poem by Laura Sackton (opens in new tab)

Deathday / Snowday One way to mark a loss is to bury it. Squirrels mourn the departing light by turning their futures into acorns underground. I often wonder if warblers mourn the seasons they never get to see in the woods they’re born and fledge in, their tiny bodies always winging away on travelling winds to elsewhere. Isn’t flight after all just the muscle of change moving through air? Eleven years ago today, your brother died. One way to mark […] The post One Poem by Laura Sackton appeare...