Amy Secrist

Tag: Gratitude

  • An All-Saints Kind of Gratitude

    I look back through Novemember’s just-hanging-on leaves, the negative space of our promises to drive through Malabar’s winding road, taking in October’s blasts of color. The weeks have whipped by, the leaves ignoring my requests to stay, to never fall away, and my melancholy drips bitter without the sweet. Then I see our love’s first fruits hanging on…

  • Being Loved

    Being loved is like this: “I love you, Mom,” and like this: “Arrrhgrrh!  You never let me do anything!” and like this: “Mom, I don’t ever want you to die.” Being loved is like wind off the ocean, harsh and constant, invigorating and powerfully wild.

  • Seeing Love

    Squished banana adornes the counter, turning formica to quartz, sparkling, innocence like the eyes of infants. A vase is filled, broccoli blooms buttery and the cilantro bolts to corriander, tiny white flowers like lace. Stalks of swiss chard, their deep red veins and ruffling green leaves stand supportive at the bouquet’s back and the mint…