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I don’t know

I don’t know how the mud flats
or how the prairie grasses. I don’t
know how the garlic scapes or the beet
greens above the soil. I don’t know how the blue
berries. I don’t know how the wind picks up
and carries on in a maelstrom. I don’t know
how the night mares or the morning dews. I
don’t know how the river knows its way to the sea
but I do know gravity. The weight and heft of the thing,
of living that is. How tenderly one can fall into the grass
and just hope, despite all signs otherwise, that the world
(meaning all of us) will turn though I don’t know how the world
turns, only that it does.

—Kathleen Byrd


  1. Gordon White September 7, 2021

    Thank you for describing a sense of feeling about the world. Helpful to see this perspective and use it to alter my own.

  2. Becky Liebman December 14, 2022

    I love the mixing of words that can be nouns and verbs and adjectives! The mash up and lack of rigid grammatical boundaries embodies the mysteries of interconnection. Well done and thank you!

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Those who grew up in Westside Olympia during the 50s…