My sister introduced me to the poet Mary Oliver a few years ago, for which I am eternally grateful. Christina, for that, you can totally have my vintage black coat and that brown sweater if I die first.
It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
~ Mary Oliver, "thirst"