Rachel
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rachelhaynes.bsky.social
Rachel
@rachelhaynes.bsky.social
250 followers 500 following 270 posts
globular brain | ponderous heart
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rachelhaynes.bsky.social
To Know the Dark by Wendell Berry
December 24, 2025 at 4:43 AM
rachelhaynes.bsky.social
Song by Christina Rossetti
When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on, as if in pain: And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply may forget.
December 24, 2025 at 4:41 AM
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Snowy Night by Mary Oliver
Snowy Night by Mary Oliver Last night, an owl in the blue dark tossed an indeterminate number of carefully shaped sounds into the world, in which, a quarter of a mile away, I happened to be standing. I couldn’t tell which one it was – the barred or the great-horned ship of the air – it was that distant. But, anyway, aren’t there moments that are better than knowing something, and sweeter? Snow was falling, so much like stars filling the dark trees that one could easily imagine its reason for being was nothing more than prettiness. I suppose if this were someone else’s story they would have insisted on knowing whatever is knowable – would have hurried over the fields to name it – the owl, I mean. But it’s mine, this poem of the night, and I just stood there, listening and holding out my hands to the soft glitter falling through the air. I love this world, but not for its answers. And I wish good luck to the owl, whatever its name – and I wish great welcome to the snow, whatever its severe and comfortless and beautiful meaning.
December 24, 2025 at 4:39 AM
rachelhaynes.bsky.social
Reasons to Survive November (Tony Hoagland) is not technically a solstice poem, but it came to me on the solstice so it is for me
Reasons to Survive November November like a train wreck— as if a locomotive made of cold had hurtled out of Canada and crashed into a million trees, flaming the leaves, setting the woods on fire. The sky is a thick, cold gauze— but there's a soup special at the Waffle House downtown, and the Jack Parsons show is up at the museum, full of luminous red barns. —Or maybe I'll visit beautiful Donna, the kickboxing queen from Santa Fe, and roll around in her foldout bed. I know there are some people out there who think I am supposed to end up in a room by myself with a gun and a bottle full of hate, a locked door and my slack mouth open like a disconnected phone. But I hate those people back from the core of my donkey soul and the hatred makes me strong and my survival is their failure, and my happiness would kill them so I shove joy like a knife into my own heart over and over and I force myself toward pleasure, and I love this November life where I run like a train deeper and deeper into the land of my enemies.
December 21, 2025 at 10:56 PM
rachelhaynes.bsky.social
My sister and I were going to read tarot and runes for solstice but I think we should do this instead
December 21, 2025 at 4:17 AM
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Poems from Julia Hungry by Hannah Louise Poston
December 16, 2025 at 6:00 PM
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I’m taking all my dolls. The dead ones too
December 13, 2025 at 4:15 AM
rachelhaynes.bsky.social
No quote I just always cry here
December 13, 2025 at 4:08 AM
rachelhaynes.bsky.social
If we can create a breathtaking effect, it’ll be easy to monopolize all the worthwhile men
December 13, 2025 at 3:52 AM
rachelhaynes.bsky.social
“I bit him.“
”I bit him too!!“
December 13, 2025 at 3:32 AM
rachelhaynes.bsky.social
I bumped into him.
Accidentally?
Almost
December 13, 2025 at 3:28 AM
rachelhaynes.bsky.social
I’ve never even been buried because everyone’s scared to come near me
December 13, 2025 at 3:24 AM
rachelhaynes.bsky.social
I can’t seem to find my hat anywhere, darn it! …pardon the expression
December 13, 2025 at 3:05 AM
rachelhaynes.bsky.social
Wasn’t I lucky to be born in my favorite city?
December 13, 2025 at 2:44 AM
rachelhaynes.bsky.social
Annual rewatch

Though I live at fifty-one thirty-five Kensington Avenue
And he lives at fifty-one thirty-three
December 13, 2025 at 2:41 AM
rachelhaynes.bsky.social
Happy birthday to
Emily Dickinson—
I’ll Tell You How the Sun Rose I’ll tell you how the Sun rose – A Ribbon at a time – The Steeples swam in Amethyst – The news, like Squirrels, ran – The Hills untied their Bonnets – The Bobolinks – begun – Then I said softly to myself – “That must have been the Sun”! But how he set – I know not – There seemed a purple stile That little Yellow boys and girls Were climbing all the while – Till when they reached the other side – A Dominie in Gray – Put gently up the evening Bars – And led the flock away –
December 11, 2025 at 12:13 AM
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Red sunset in the west
December 10, 2025 at 2:47 AM
rachelhaynes.bsky.social
Admiring old Looney Tunes backgrounds of a Friday night
December 6, 2025 at 2:17 AM
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Btw here’s the front! And the back
December 3, 2025 at 6:20 PM
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Was this a bad joke to send to my mom
December 3, 2025 at 6:17 PM
rachelhaynes.bsky.social
The PTA Reflections FAQs are nipping any Air Bud situations in the...well. In the bud
List of rules that states: Can I incorporate movement that is not traditionally considered dance? Yes, but, your entry needs to consist of choreographed movement, choreographed by you, with the intent of portraying your interpretation of this year’s theme. Reflections entries must be made for Reflections. It is not acceptable to try and make something work for Dance Choreography that was not choreographed for Reflections. Can I have an animal be the dancer in my entry? No. Dance Choreography entries must feature people as the dancers. You may have animals in your Dance Choreography entry, but there must be at least one person performing the dance you choreographed. Can I use props? Yes.
November 17, 2025 at 10:03 PM
rachelhaynes.bsky.social
Librarian told me nobody ever checks out the Far Side books??? Guys what are you doing
November 11, 2025 at 5:34 PM
rachelhaynes.bsky.social
NyQuil and Detectorists to stave off a cold
November 6, 2025 at 1:09 AM
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Thinking about this one today
Tin Bucket by Jenny George The world is not simple. Anyone will tell you. But have you ever washed a person’s hair over a tin bucket, gently twisting the rope of it to wring the water out? At the end of everything, dancers just use air as their material. A voice keeps singing even without an instrument. You make your fingers into a comb.
November 2, 2025 at 5:24 PM
rachelhaynes.bsky.social
As a slob I don’t have beautiful mood boards but I do have piles o’stuff
October 27, 2025 at 9:04 PM