Ada Limón, from The Carrying; “Dead Stars”
What would happen if we used our bodies to bargain / for the safety of others, for earth, / if we declared a clean night, if we stopped being terrified, / if we launched our demands into the sky, made ourselves so big / people could point to us with the arrows they make in their minds,
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on grief
okechukwu nzelu here again now \\ ada limón the carrying: "after the fire" \\ alice hoffman practical magic
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Ada Limón, from “Cargo.” [ID in alt text]
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Ada Limón, from “Dead Stars”, The Carrying
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after the fire, from the carrying- ada limón
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But sometimes, I swear I hear it, the wound closing like a rusted-over garage door,
and I can still move my living limbs
into the world without too much pain,
can still marvel at how the dog runs straight towards the pickup trucks break-necking down the road, because she thinks she loves them,
because she's sure, without a doubt, that the loud
roaring things will love her back,
her soft small self alive with desire to share her goddam enthusiasm, until I yank the leash back to save her because I want her to survive forever.
from The Leash by Ada Limon
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The Carrying // Ada Limón
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“I remember we broke into laughter when we saw each other. What was between us wasn’t a fragile thing to be coddled, cooed over. It came out fully formed, ready to run.”
What I Didn’t Know Before by Ada Limón
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The Carrying
by Ada Limón
The sky’s white with November’s teeth,
and the air is ash and woodsmoke.
A flush of color from the dying tree,
a cargo train speeding through, and there,
that’s me, standing in the wintering
grass watching the dog suffer the cold
leaves. I’m not large from this distance,
just a fence post, a hedge of holly.
Wider still, beyond the rumble of overpass,
mares look for what’s left of green
in the pasture, a few weanlings kick
out, and theirs is the same sky, white
like a calm flag of surrender pulled taut.
A few farms over, there’s our mare,
her belly barrel-round with foal, or idea
of foal. It’s Kentucky, late fall, and any
mare worth her salt is carrying the next
potential stake’s winner. Ours, her coat
thicker with the season’s muck, leans against
the black fence and this image is heavy
within me. How my own body, empty,
clean of secrets, knows how to carry her,
knows we were all meant for something.
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Ada Limón, from “Dead Stars.” [ID in alt text]
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Ada limón, “The Burying Beetle” from The Carrying
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the leash, from the carrying- ada limón
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