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A review by rosa44
The Hurting Kind by Ada Limón
emotional
lighthearted
relaxing
fast-paced
3.0
AND, TOO, THE FOX
Comes with its streak of redflashing across the lawn, squirrelbound and bouncing almostas if it were effortless to hunt,food being an afterthought orjust a little boring. He doesn’tsay a word. Just uses those fourblack feet to silently go abouthis work, which doesn’t seemlike work at all but play. Foxlives on the edges, pieces togethera living out of leftovers and lazyrodents too slow for the telephonepole. He takes only what he needsand lives a life that some mightcall small, has a few friends, likesthe grass when it’s soft and green,never cares how long you watch,never cares what you needwhen you’re watching, never careswhat you do once he is gone.
GLIMPSE
In the bathroom our lastcat comes up to me and purrseven without touch she purrsand there are times I canhold her when no one elsecan hold her. She oncebelonged to my husband’sex-girlfriend who is no longerof the earth and what I’venever told him is that somenights when I touch herI wonder if the cat is feelingmy touch or just rememberingher last owner’s touch. Sheis an ancient cat and prickly.When we are alone I singfull throated in the empty houseand she meows and mewlslike we’ve done this beforebut we haven’t done this before.
TOO CLOSE
Shiny little knives of icehave replaced the grassand yes they seem likeblades now more thanany other time before,they are sharp needleserupting from the groundand poor grass, coveredas it is and so cold. Inthe near distance, a treefalls, or large branches,a roar that sounds asviolent as it is when laterthe poor downed Callery peardivided almost in two,one part of the trunkon the ground and anothersomehow continuing on.I could not do any of thesethings. In winter, a distancegrows, the world wasbreathing, and then suddenlyit was not. Pyrus calleryana breakseasily because it keepsits leaves and is knownto split apart in storms.But haven’t we learned by nowthat just because somethingis bound to breakdoesn’t mean we shouldn’tshiver when it breaks?
Comes with its streak of redflashing across the lawn, squirrelbound and bouncing almostas if it were effortless to hunt,food being an afterthought orjust a little boring. He doesn’tsay a word. Just uses those fourblack feet to silently go abouthis work, which doesn’t seemlike work at all but play. Foxlives on the edges, pieces togethera living out of leftovers and lazyrodents too slow for the telephonepole. He takes only what he needsand lives a life that some mightcall small, has a few friends, likesthe grass when it’s soft and green,never cares how long you watch,never cares what you needwhen you’re watching, never careswhat you do once he is gone.
GLIMPSE
In the bathroom our lastcat comes up to me and purrseven without touch she purrsand there are times I canhold her when no one elsecan hold her. She oncebelonged to my husband’sex-girlfriend who is no longerof the earth and what I’venever told him is that somenights when I touch herI wonder if the cat is feelingmy touch or just rememberingher last owner’s touch. Sheis an ancient cat and prickly.When we are alone I singfull throated in the empty houseand she meows and mewlslike we’ve done this beforebut we haven’t done this before.
TOO CLOSE
Shiny little knives of icehave replaced the grassand yes they seem likeblades now more thanany other time before,they are sharp needleserupting from the groundand poor grass, coveredas it is and so cold. Inthe near distance, a treefalls, or large branches,a roar that sounds asviolent as it is when laterthe poor downed Callery peardivided almost in two,one part of the trunkon the ground and anothersomehow continuing on.I could not do any of thesethings. In winter, a distancegrows, the world wasbreathing, and then suddenlyit was not. Pyrus calleryana breakseasily because it keepsits leaves and is knownto split apart in storms.But haven’t we learned by nowthat just because somethingis bound to breakdoesn’t mean we shouldn’tshiver when it breaks?