Unburdened

 These rocks spoke to me when I did a birthday walk at Wolfe Neck Woods State Park recently. I wasn't sure why until today - three weeks later.

Unburdened

Layers and layers

form, fuse, tip,

merge, morph, split.

A heavy load this can be

if one was trained 

to carry.

Bit by bit comes the dismantling.

Some slabs, though weathered,

have a stealthy strength,

even in the smaller chunks.

The jaggedness of feeling judged

can be present

when one allows vulnerabilities

to be exposed,

when one learned 

to keep certain emotions

hidden away.

Little by little the load can lighten,

if one is supported 

in laying it down

or casting it away.

A confusing crevice

forms when friends 

seem to fall by the wayside,

especially in a pandemic

as solitude takes on new meaning. 

Step by step, however, 

those who choose 

to allow grief

have the opportunity 

to rediscover being held,

even as complex tears flow.

For me,

I must remember

the hope that has run true

throughout.

I must trust that the

 flowing of tears

will help clear the way to 

whatever comes next.

Unburdened,

I will continue on

to discover ever more

in me.

Sarah Carlson

June 16, 2021

Ever More

 

The past two days have been the last ones with students. I am, at this point, retired. So many meanings to that word, but I'm choosing to look at it as a time to allow myself to simply say, "Now what." I don't see it as an ending, but more a beginning. This piece is a part of how I am processing that and so much more that is going on within.

Ever More

Though facets are changing,
 the way ahead somewhat hazy,
she is peaceful,
feeling both whole
and holy.
That last part is novel,
though it has been present
in her tenor all along.
She just couldn’t quite
acknowledge it fully
for her faith had been
smothered, too,
by others who once
loomed large.
She breathes,
courageously puts words
to her sense of holiness.
Surreptitious shadows
swirl and slide about.
but they do not
can not,
find substance.
 It matters less and less
as to why or where
or how they came
as outward they go,
leaving the way
ever more open.
Relief unfurls
as she breathes
ever more freely.
She smiles a
whole body smile
ever more broadly.
Self compassion renews
as healing finds its way
ever more wholly.
She writes and
again feels held,
trusting that there
is ever more
to refresh,
    record,
         restore.

Sarah Carlson
June 11, 2021

The Fullness of Grief

 

Rarely do I post a photo of me with my poetry. But, this was such a settled moment for me. And, it was my birthday. 

I love to take a slow walk after an Osteopathic treatment and have found such solace along the shores of Casco Bay at Wolfe Neck Woods State Park lately. As I walk along the trail, gaze to the water and sky, listen to ocean rhythms, I can feel things shift and settle. Often a poem starts to form and this is one of those that began stirring a week or so ago, but surfaced all the way today.

For many reasons that are important for me, my own knowing, this year is actually the first time I can fully feel the losses of my life - especially that of my husband. That may seem odd to an outsider since it has been 19 years since he died. But, I am so grateful to be feeling all these feels, that I found my way to where I am right now. To this insider it just feels right.

This piece is again the teacher in me talking. I hope that others may find their way, whenever the time is right, to feeling the fullness that I am experiencing right now.

The Fullness of Grief

As thoughts drift
back to what was
 there can be loneliness,
                            heartache,
                                    longing.
So many of us were taught
to control our tears,
hide our despair,
that there is some sort of order
to grief.
All of that is fallacy.
Body may tighten,
breath restrict
spirit become uneasy.
Yet, when the tension
of unexpressed sorrow unwinds,
when it is allowed to surface
and tears flow free,
one can experience
the fullness of grief.
This is uniquely individual,
can not be prescribed,
should not be judged.
Honor love shared,
comfort an aching soul,
reclaim and rejuvenate
one’s sweet self.
Such is the
power and potential
of enabling
the fullness of grief.

Sarah Carlson
June 6, 2021

Held

 

I had my first full reading from In the Currents of Quiet a few days ago. I scheduled it on purpose during what I call 'weird week'. Two birthdays (including mine) and two anniversaries of deaths all in one week. It felt so good to weave together pieces and let the words find their way to listeners. Thoughtful, insightful questions were asked and answered. Joy, love, and healing were present. Beginning again... again.

I also did two in person signings - one the day of the reading and one the next day (yesterday). A few people came and bought books on the first day - past students, someone I had worked with, a old acquaintance who just happened by. Wonderful conversations and connections. Yesterday, however, I sat there swatting black flies for an hour and a half... and the bones of this poem formed.

So many aspects of my life and healing converged for this to emerge. I do believe that my books will continue to find hands and hearts that will appreciate and benefit from them. I love sharing my work and hearing how it resonates with others. There's never a question to that. But, it feels so liberating to simply appreciate what this process means to me, to allow myself comfort in being the important one as I sit with pencil in hand...

 Held

Pencil in hand
I pause,
breathe, allow,
know to let words
simply flow as they may,
as they have so many times
over these past years.
Early on they came
            in a quickening,
                        poured forth
                            as grief
                                                    opened the way.
More often now
there’s a gentle tug and
            they come in
                                peaceful currents
as images, perceptions
flicker
                 and flutter
until a clear reflection presents.
There’s an enjoyable aspect
 of wordplay
as my sweet wild child’s
poetic purity
                darts
                 and dances
until she feels heard.
When I write
I feel held,
            buoyant,
                        limitless,
            suspended.
Waters meet sky,
dark and light mingle,
and it matters not
who else might listen.

Sarah Carlson
May 28, 2021

 

Smothered No Longer

 Smothered No Longer

The wounds of grief,
whatever the origin,
need not be fully defined
as dark,
though that does
loom large early on.
Given space
to express and honor,
explore and heal,
one gains the opening
to transmute.
There is potential
to access
diffusing Light,
branching awareness,
currents of quiet peace.
When grief bursts come now
I know what to do:
Allow,
    speak,
        cry,    
                    remember,
                    love…
                            me.
                            Breathe,
                    ponder,
                recover,
      hold,
be…
me.
What sweet relief it is
to have my grief
smothered no longer.
What dawning joy
I discern
 by granting it
with Love.

Sarah Carlson
May 14, 2021

I'll Hold You, Too

Photo by Emma Carlson

 

Happy Mother's Day on my first one as Oma.

 I’ll Hold You, Too

Unsettled,
you are in need
of comfort.
I speak quiet words
of encouragement
and love.
Slowly and steadily
your  body relaxes
and you nestle
into my arms,
tiny fingers
wrapped around
one of mine.
Once again I drift back
to days of mothering.
Precious moments of
holding my babies,
calming their unease,
soothing their tears,
basking in wholesome love shared
with them and their sweet dad.
A tender sigh brings me
back to you,
your contented breath
and gentle holding.
I’m so very happy
that I get
to hold you, too.

Sarah Carlson
May 9, 2021

Finding Oneself in Solitude

 

Finding Oneself in Solitude

Long stretches of time
alone
in the past year or so,
though challenging,
have allowed much to come
to light.
Unfettered recognition of
                                        illusion,
                               pain,
                            strength,
                 truth.
Uneasy wonderings of
    who remembers,
                where to fit,
                            what is next
                                                                when, how, if to re-emerge.
     Sometimes so clear,
 other times

                                                      just out of focus.

Branching moments
 of suspension 

create currents of
 gratitude for love let in,
                    comfort in quiet company,
                                     hope of candid connection.
                            Valid,
                   vital,
                    revealing,
            redeeming –
finding oneself
in solitude.

Sarah Carlson

May 2, 2021

Salty Softness

 Popham Beach, Maine - April 20, 2021

Salty Softness

Spring winds gently swirl
as a lively ocean adjusts
to an incoming tide.
She walks slowly,
listens
both out and in.
        Reminiscing,
                     remembering,
                            realigning.
She has no real plan
other than to be there,
see what comes,
relax in moments
of in between.
She is drawn out
                        along a sand bar,
                                closer to the
                                                        breaking waves.
Soothing ocean rhythms
bring tender tears
and she speaks her heart
to those who are gone.
She hears empathy
as she articulates her truth,
currents of self-compassion
now part of her flow.
She looks to the horizon
sandwiched between briny waves
and velvety clouds.
She feels at once grounded and lofty,
 smiles at the salty softness
of allowing.

Sarah Carlson
April 22, 2021

Solace

 

Mt. Blue as seen from the Holley Road. This mountain can be seen from every town in our school district, which is why we are known as Mt. Blue RSD. It's a view that brings a warm smile when ever I return home or just happen to gaze its way.

 

Solace

One fierce event,
subliminal missives
over time,
a potent combination
of the two.
There’s no concrete memory,
but clearly my body recollects
some sort of smothering
that left a multi-strand,
            intricately wound,
                                tightly bound,
                    ball of hurt   
            deep within.
Ever so slowly,
bit by bit,
unwinding and release
have accompanied my healing.
Residual fury
sometimes kindles,
a valid part of the wound.
When I sit with the stillness
that comes after such a surge,
more deeply I feel my essence.
Like a distant mountain
whose familiar silhouette
brings solace in varied skies,
my inner world
more and more
a place of comfort
for me.

Sarah Carlson
April 16, 2021

Moments Such as This

The song of a cardinal on my morning walk helped this one come to the surface:

 Moments Such as This

I walk familiar circles,
though inner dialogue shifts.
One foot in front of the other
as onward I move.
I hear you,
but don’t take notice
at first.
Your gentle persistence penetrates.
Upward I gaze,
locate you
on a branch
underlit by the morning sun,
clear blue sky your canvas.
I thank you for moments such as this.
I don’t yet fully understand
and loneliness remains a constant,
though it wanes.
I will continue to listen
and look for these opportunities
to let go residual angst,  
tap my steady wisdom,
build trust in my
connection
to you.

Sarah Carlson
April 9, 2021

Mommy... Where's God?

I've been working through many things lately. I don't quite know where I am, and yet I'm right here very solidly in me. Recently I went for a very tired cross country ski to get out into the wisdom of the woods. To my surprise I ended up doing a full loop of the trails. You could say I was drawn up the hill. As I slowly climbed I could feel my being settle into that familiar peace that comes in the natural world, particularly in the company of these pines.  The thought that I have been on a pilgrimage of sorts drifted into my mind followed by the sweet, warm memory that this poem is about.

 Mommy…. Where’s God?

 I sit uncomfortably
in a house of worship
that is not familiar to me,
my four year old son
in my lap.
He cranes his neck,
looks up at a large, ornate cross
hanging over an alter that
seems so very far away.
His sweet, innocent voice
reaches my ears with
a whisper,
“Mommy… where’s God?”
His wonderful father,
my soulmate,
sits next to my shoulder
holding our
two year old daughter.
He turns to me with
a knowing smile,
 blue eyes twinkling,
an unspoken question of,
“So, how will you answer that one,
my love?"
And, without missing more than
 a few beats
I hug our precious son,
his blue eyes searching my face,
and say,
“God is here, and there,
and everywhere.”
In that moment,
that answer is enough.
And we,
the four of us,
settle into the love
that binds us
just a little bit more.

Sarah Carlson
March 18, 2021

A Pandemic Year

 Shared with gratitude to MaineHealth and the staff of Franklin Memorial Hospital, along with the many others who contributed to the opportunity to receive a COVID-19 vaccine.

A Pandemic Year
Through the Heart of a Teacher

Friday, March 13, 2020.
After a tense week
trying to appease the fears
of fourth grade minds and hearts,
she walks out the door
of her beloved classroom.
Little does she know
that she will never go back
to teaching as she had known it
for 30 years.
There begins a time
of losses and gains,
 unease and sureness,
confusion and certainty,
and everything in between –
sometimes all at once.

Saturday, March 13, 2021.
After a tense few days
 appeasing the fears
of her own mind and heart,
she walks into a door opened
by science and leadership.
Emotions stirring,
she is met by volunteers
smiling behind masks,
gentle support in their eyes.
Joining a smooth flow
of veteran educators
she is ushered into a large room
staffed by compassionate medical workers.
An explanation,
a pause for questions,
a quick jab
that she hardly feels,
a time to sit and make
sure her body accepts
the vaccine.
Taking a relieved and grateful breath,
she walks out another door,
hope and appreciation
filling her heart.

Sarah Carlson
March 14, 2021

Unbounded

Unbounded

The losses and stresses
of my young life
took a seat
way in the back
as I was obscured
by the needs of others.
Still, I know love when I feel it.
The brightness,
the rightness of my light
was surrounded,
almost encapsulated,
by dense, distressing darkness.
Still, it shines.
In my past
when I was hurting
or needing help,
I ran headlong
into a wall of anger and disdain.
Still, I find my way to healing.
I lost so much on a May day in 2002.
There one minute, gone the next.
Still, here I am –
tender, radiant, lively me.
Energetic, fun-loving,
go-out-for-a-ski-
even-though-it’s-13-below-
giggle-at-frozen-eyelashes-
and-frosty-hair me.
I’m right here
learning to relax into
the dawning joy
 of being unbounded.

Sarah Carlson

March 2, 2021

This Light of Mine

 This Light of Mine

Good morning, Me.
I love how you rose up,
larger than life
on the trail ahead
just when I needed you.
 Working through
a detached despair
that sloshes about,
my body was achy and weary.
But, I went skiing anyway,
knowing that
fresh air, forward momentum,
the company of trees
were necessary.
As I was climbing,
so was the sun.
It peeked from behind me,
found an opening,
warmed my back,
allowed me to rise
in front of my self.
A quiet pause,
a gentle breath,
a dawning joy,
 a deeper notion
 that despite the heaviness
of details of the dark,
this light of mine
is good and strong
and so very right.

Sarah Carlson
February 26, 2021

Thank You, Father

 Thank You, Father

I took some runs
 on a favorite trail
that we skied together
so very long ago.
Timberline –
where we can gaze to the Whites,
appreciate our valley,
cruise the ridge line with ease.
I wasn’t expecting you,
but the softness of the sky
seemed to descend,
wrap me in comfort and support
as I carved graceful arcs
in the twinkling snow.
Whispered words of gentle reminder
helped me connect to
ubiquitous love.
My whole body settled
into sensations of hope, ease,
security, and peace.
Thank you, Father.
I needed that so very much.
I will once again suspend
in these moments of
in between,
as a stiff, shadowy unease
slowly and steadily melts,
 eventually evaporates away.
 

Sarah Carlson
February 14, 2021

In the Glistening

The soft, snowy woods on a morning ski...

 In the Glistening 

Crisp air,
fresh snow,
rising sun,
strengthening body.
The power of movement
allows opportunity
 for morning sparkles
to grace this
glorious life.
In the glistening
facets of mourning
reflect and refract
so that healing happens,
 despair dissolves,
spirit settles
just a little bit more.

Sarah Carlson
February 9, 2021

What's True

A hard fought one...

 What’s True

This beautiful valley,
 part of her life
since before she can remember.
This day,
though all appears
still and frozen,
full of movement and memories,
sensations and stories,
feelings and folklore
for her.

An eclectic mix swirls 

around and through.
Heartache, hope,
anguish, adventure,
confusion, clarity 

mingle
as energy within her
gently drifts.
She smiles sadly,
breathes deeply,
allows her being
 to widen once again.
Though deep despair
is definitely present,
she senses currents
of comfort
as more and more
she trusts
what she knows
to be true.

Sarah Carlson
February 8, 2021

The Energy of it All

 The Energy of it All

As the effects of
 bygone impositions
dissolve
bit by bit by bit,
I’m realizing that it’s
the energy of it all
that is shifting now,
has been along the way.
It was a fearsome, frothy mix
that bubbled and oozed,
 spread toxicity
in a stealthy, fluctuating fashion
 around sweet, tender me.
It’s in my power now
 to let the toxicity
stream away.
Whether it cascades, gushes,
seeps, or dribbles
 matters not
because it’s just not mine,
never was.
As it goes
I have the opportunity
 to more deeply experience
 that which is mine.
I can pause,
raise my eyes
to the expansive sky,
feel the warmth
 of the morning sun
around and through my body
as I bask in the
big, bold, brilliant
energy of me.

Sarah Carlson
January 23, 2021

Such Illumination

 

Such Illumination

The steady presence of the moon
has long been a fascination,
its nuances and beauty
there for the beholding
no matter what’s
going on below.
All that is needed is
a clear enough sky
and awareness.

Our beautiful moon carries truth.
The same side always faces us,
and yet the other exists.
It moves through its lovely phases
 with varied amounts of reflected light,
but no matter what we see,
or even if we don’t bother to look,
 it is whole.
Its consistent orbit
provides the basis
for the months of our earthly year.
Its gravity pulls tides,
was probably a factor
in the stabilizing of the earth
so that life here can flourish.
And flourish we should,
even when times are challenging,
troubling, confusing.

The truth of the moon…
such illumination.
A template for
 letting our own light shine,
especially as we feel unsure,
unnoticed, or even unseen.
Because just like the moon,
we are whole,
we matter.

Sarah Carlson
January 14, 2021

Singular

 Singular

Being mostly alone
in a pandemic
allows one to alter
 relationship within.
So many facets
to explore,
            disentangle,
                    rearrange,
            appreciate.
It’s difficult,
can be so very lonely,
make you wonder
if you have been forgotten
especially as day comes to an end,
dark of winter night approaches.
Wonders and worries sometimes swirl,
unanswered questions and
past confusions surface.
Yet, thoughts can be shifted
to brighter times
when there was a distinct
 sense of belonging.
Feelings honored,
healing rekindled so that
tensions trickle away  
with a sigh, a breath,
a settling
into the comfort
 of one’s beautiful,
singular
self.

Sarah Carlson
January 6, 2020

Newness

Newness

No longer a newborn,
still he can curl up
and sleep soundly on my chest.
Every so often he stretches,
burrows his face,
makes those adorable sounds
that only babies can make.
How sweet it is to hold him close,
feel his full-on trust and love.
When I sit with him
I often think of you.
How you and I soaked in
similar moments with our babies,
both.
How much you would have
loved holding him, too.
Sometimes in quiet moments,
with him in my arms,
gentle tears come.
I miss you in novel ways,
though it has been so long
since I’ve felt your arms
around me.
The underlying emotions also
include a very large dose of joy.
So tonight, on yet another
New Year’s Eve without you,
I honor the varied feelings
that ebb and flow
throughout my being.
 I take a breath
and smile with thoughts
of our precious little grandson,
our wonderful daughter,
a mother.

Sarah Carlson
December 31, 2020

The Vast Reaches of You

 The Vast Reaches of You

Engage in healing.
Lean into the truth
that surrounds,
permeates,
radiates.
Suspend in an expansive,
lively sea of love
as you disengage from the effects
of times and spaces
that were devoid of light.
Disempower them.
Let their tensions
loosen and release.
Rest in quiet currents
that support you gently
as you mend.
Allow your pieces
to rearrange as they will.
Let go the need
to direct.
Feel the fullness of your vigor,
the gleaming nature of you –
no longer dimmed
by impositions
that were not,
are not,
never should have been
yours.
Honor all you have learned
from that which was dark
and the related shades of gray.
Look to the sky as
you feel your Health widen
more and more and more.
Stretch surely and steadily
 into the vast reaches of you.

Sarah Carlson
December 24, 2020

Solstice in the Wings

 Solstice in the Wings

I feel the presence of your love,
though your absence
can be very large still.
Perhaps it’s the many
challenges and changes
I’ve had to process
in the past several months
that has me missing you anew.
I walk to our river,
fill with memories
of the four of us
frolicking there
in every season.
A gentle combination
of sadness and hope
swirls and settles
as I realize
they have been
consistent companions
since your death,
hope usually the stronger
of the two.
As I return home,
I raise my eyes
 to a crescent moon
cradled by branches
of a tree we planted together
when we first moved in.
Waxing and setting in the gloaming
with the Solstice in the wings.
Well, there it is…
Hope, Love,
and the promise of Light
 win the day,
even in the uncertainty and isolation
of a global pandemic.

Sarah Carlson
December 18, 2020

Slow Motion

 Slow Motion

Fissures, formed long ago,
crack more deeply
by forces of nature and
perhaps a
concussive blow.
Jagged pieces break loose,
tumble downward,
drop into streaming waters
that rise and fall
again and again.
The undeniable energy
of whitewater wildness
provides movement
and transformation.
Gentle waters allow for respite
and recovery
with varied escapades
along the way.
This trajectory is both universal
and unique
as wounding, weathering,
wellness flow.
And,
like sand on a sunny beach,
sometimes you just need
to sit for a bit,
allow for light to
             surround,
                        reflect,
                                        emanate.
Feel inherent Divinity
in the stillness,
let motion come
as it may.

Sarah Carlson
December 14, 2020

In the Waning

 In the Waning

I awaken.
A soft blue sky
beckons
and I step out
 into the clear, crisp air.
I breathe,
feel my self realign
and rebalance yet again.
There is an emptiness,
but it’s not fully hollow.
In fact,
there’s promise there.
I gaze to the horizon,
 then higher.
The waning moon,
on its way to set,
is tickled by
bare branches
of sleepy treetops
bathed in the widening
morning light.
Ah, there it is…
in the waning,
there is widening
with plenty of light present
 and in phases to come.
They will be as they are
and I can be
as I am.
Thank you Moon.
Thank you Sun.
I understand.

Sarah Carlson
December 4, 2020

Short Reading from In the Currents of Quiet

 Looking for new ways to promote my newest book, In the Currents of Quiet.

Available at the following bookstores:

Twice Sold Tales and

Devaney Doak and Garrett Booksellers in Farmington, ME

Oliver and Friends in Belgrade, ME

Gulf of Maine Books in Brunswick, ME

Sherman's Maine Coast Book Shops in Freeport, Bar Harbor, Damariscotta, Portland, and Boothbay Harbor, ME

Books, Lines and Thinkers in Rangeley, ME

White Birch Books in North Conway, NH

 

For online orders click the book to the right.

Years and Years of Tears

 

Years and Years of Tears

And so they come
from deep down in my depths.
I know it’s healthy
to allow them to flow,
though some of them
have powerful currents
of anger
and I feel a bit afraid
of their fierceness.
I’m home alone,
though I believe
that the Divine is here
and there
and everywhere.
Trusting in the
pure benevolence
of that connection
 is still fairly new,
especially in moments
of releasing indignation.
But the time is right,
 conditions oddly favorable,
for years and years of tears
to overflow my tender heart.
And so I will do my best
to allow them without fear.
Anticipating the cleansing,
even now I look
for the light that I know
will eventually show.
I can feel my healing,
but this is hard …
and right now
 it hurts.

Sarah Carlson
November 25, 2020

 

Upheld

Adding the photo that inspired the poem

 

This poem surfaced several days ago. I've been sitting with it and the more I do, the more I feel its many meanings, its power and love. It was inspired by one thing, but taps so very much. 

I usually post my poems with the picture that inspires them or that I later realize is connected to their meaning. But this one just has so many connections. And, this morning I realized I needed it to be out in my home space. So, here's a pic of the one I wrote for me.

I'm so grateful to have had a loving husband and to have raised two amazing children with him. I'm grateful for how I somehow found his death a catalyst to explore my inner workings.   

And so this Thanksgiving day I share this piece along with some of the many things I am thankful for - my being, my healing, my family and friends, my students, my home, my gifts and the courage to share. 

Here it is... with love.

Upheld

Your wholesome body curls
against my chest,
warms my heart with memories
of nurturing and loving and
mothering.
This time of holding,
beginning to know you,
is fresh, clear,
has no tangles.
It contains a pleasant,
fizzy energy of
            transition,
                    connection,
                                unbridled love.
As if your heart and mine
meld together,
though our uniqueness is
distinct and true.
You, so tiny and pristine.
Me, more weathered
 with freshness of my own.
This mingled newness
liberates feelings that are
 almost beyond words.
I am upheld
                as I uphold.
And it’s beautiful.

Sarah Carlson
November 17, 2020

Even a Little Bit of Light

 Even a Little Bit of Light

Some of us have a hefty share
of trying times.
For the most part,
there’s no real
 rhyme or reason
to that.
It just is as it is.
Loss and times of grief
are simply part of being human.
And, when you live and love deeply,
there are just so very many feels
betwixt and between.
As I’ve worked my way in
and around and through the
effects of my own dark times,
I can recognize
that I have this amazing way
of finding the good,
orienting to hope,
 eventually finding
even a little bit of light
no matter how dark
it may be.
I feel so very grateful
that I know this
about me.
It’s an essential
part of my inner embers
that I need to kindle
right now.
I can do that for me.

Sarah Carlson
November 23, 2020

Widen

Widen

She looks closely,
so closely,
trying to find her way in,
                                            out,
                                    around,
                        and through.
When she loses her bearings,
feels adrift,
she knows the importance
of remembering
to raise her gaze
to the horizon,
let her vision
 be less and less
skewed by the lenses
of those who would
 not fully see.
Eventually her eyes refocus,
currents shift,
heart opens even more.
The buzzing energy
of imposed tension
dwindles
 as the fuzzy warmth
of boundless love
widens.
Her shoulders straighten,
breath comes easily,
gaze drifts ever higher.
Eyes to the sky,
she smiles and
widens, too.

Sarah Carlson
November 21, 2020