The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 8

by Beth Brower

I am, I suppose, satiating a long drought. My childhood soul has been left too long abandoned.

Childhood anticipations are traded

with the shouldering of heavier things. But these days, these stones-tossed-in-tall-grass days, have stretched my muscles, recalled past forms, and I am remembering how it is to feel, to follow the instincts of something young yet ancient.