Winter 2002 • Vol. XXIV No. 1 Poetry |

Surviving Love

I work hard at managing, grateful and spare. I try to forgive all trespasses. I give thanks for the desert. I rejoice to be alive here in the simple world. Each evening I walk for an hour, paying attention to the real things. The plover sweeping at my face to get me away from its ground nest. An ant carrying the wing of a butterfly like a flag in the wind. A grasshopper eating a dead grasshopper. The antelope close up, just staring at me. Back in the house, I lie down in the heat for a nap, realizing forgiveness is hard for the wounded. Near the border, between this country and the next one.

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The Creature

By Linda Gregg

I work hard at managing, grateful and spare. I try to forgive all trespasses. I give thanks for the desert. I rejoice to be alive here in the simple world. […]

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