"I’m just trying to reach the light and maybe, for a brief moment, be the light. For me, words are the wick."
Kate lives and works in Western Massachusetts. She divides her writing time between poetry and the development needs of a small liberal arts college.
You kneel in the kitchen garden…
You must learn to gather the harvest with a worry-baby strapped to your back.
You have the capacity to love this tumult.
Show up. Bring your body. Breathe.
You may choose to stay and claim the clearing.
To be breathed into life on this beating green heart…
There is no schedule for a moment.
This is the end of awkward, the end of effort.
The only currency worth anything is gentleness.
You live in the space you create for your self.
You are closer than ever to your beloved.
Change your mind. Your feet will follow.
Get to know your wings and how they work.
In the beginning, there was desire.
Your face, a half-open door, stayed as it was, and if I’d pressed, I knew it would shut.
Lean against the sky.
It’s not your fault.
I’ve tried to live by so many lights...
Your delight counts. Choose it.
Let me feel through the horror for the green.
Lay me down on the riverbank.