From Muriel Rukeyser’s Breaking Open:

18.

How we live:
I look into my face in the square glass.
Under it, a bright flow of cold water.
At once, a strong arrangement of presences:
I am holding a small glass
under the little flow
at Fern Spring, among the western forest.
A cool flaw among the silence.
The taste of the waterfall.

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Here is a conversation between my husband and I tonight, on this 11/9:

Me: We go high.

Husband: I wish I could make it heard everywhere across the country that we do not have commonality with the people who voted for Trump.