a mid-life rewilding
The devotional dance is a re-birthing. Eyes loose shut. Crouching on hands and knees. Rocking back and forth. Arching —no growling. Just prowling and breath. A feeling into the body, sensing its stories and songs. Dusty blackened bare feet. Soft body. Sweat-stained skin. Untamed bushy hair. These sensual
The food scraps are out of the freezer. Potato peelings. Giblets. Onion skins. Dug-out pumpkin pips and flesh, the ghosts of hollowed-out Halloween lanterns. Chicken bones. Carrot peelings. They all end up in the large stainless steel pot. A few cloves of garlic, skin on. A dash of