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The briar patch where I was born is flowering.
A stone path leads to the brook.
Hummingbirds find the greensward’s stargazer lilies,
their sepals open like the intimate eye of belief.
Yes. I would.
I would repeat this life.
Excerpted from The Near and Distant World by Bianca Stone. Copyright © 2026 Bianca Stone. Published with permission from Tin House, an imprint of Zando, LLC.
I am considering a stone.
Even alone I feel I am in another performance.
Even the near world is distant.
Certain graves have no headstone, no name,
no dates, no epitaph. Only a good boulder
hauled over with a backhoe
and marked with a twisted windchime.
When you leave, faceless
old lover, element
that I have tried for so long
to explain—I will be
suspended between
two large stones
for a moment
thinking you were good
before I am revived.
I will be laundry
that has gotten loose