sun on the carpet

The world has been moving way too fast lately, and I feel as though I haven't been able to catch up. The fall was hard. The spring was harder. And now, we're headed into summer, which I hope will just be nothing but lovely.

In these moments, I tell myself to breath. And, I hold tight to the little things.

Boy Beeton and I stumbled upon this Little Free Library on the way to a birthday party. These gems are scattered throughout our neighborhood, but this one was particularly sweet.

Mr. Beeton was reading poems by Charles Bukowski. I'd never read Bukowski, but I definitely had a clearly formed image of him from my graduate school days. I opened the book to this poem, which took me by surprise. Completely at odds with the poet I thought I knew and so expressive of my own feelings about parenthood. 

Marina
majestic, magic
infinite
my little girl is
sun
on the carpet-
out the door
picking a flower, ha!
an old man,
battle-wrecked,
emerges from his
chair
and she looks at me
but only sees
love,
ha!, and I become
quick with the world
and love right back
just like I was meant
to do.

Keep sweeping,

Martha

Read My Name Is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout. Watched Carol. Watching Catastrophe. 

we're having...

...snow much fun!

Keep shoveling,
Martha

Watched Sofia Coppola's Somewhere. Finished reading Lauren Groff's Fates and Furies.