Ratified to Go Beyond or Slip Away
BOSTON, Mass. — Beside the trunk of the Golden Weeping Willow, the dog gnaws the king’s bones. / He wears away slowly and thoroughly the brittle bones. / He cracks a rib. / He splits the rib into shards and chews deliberately to soften the sharp edges. / He savors the flavor. / He wags his tail.
An Early Morning Hike
COLUMBIA, Pa. — Every sentence is always inadequate, so a fear of failure has never paralyzed me. That’s not what makes writing difficult. It’s the possibility of success that strikes me as terrifying. What if I succeed? What if, during one of these early-morning moments, the seamless expression of an adjacent world materializes? How do I live with myself?