The short threads tied to the caged fan quiver as proof of air. As such, these words prove breath—feel it! Of a short life, anxious with reverence of itself, puffing up stairs with eager asking—who, how, why? Arranging gifts for loved things here in front of me, my desk a platform for toys of touch, service, intimacy, and encouragement. They enlarge to totems by the shore, saying nothing except: I was here, loved, it was hot sometimes, and it felt like, looked like things visible in clear air.

---

By Larry Bridges

IG: @larrybridges, Youtube:@larry90272

X/Twitter: https://twitter.com/LawrenceBridges