Thursday morning

Stuck inside on the only nice day in week
longingly looking at the window
feeling both trapped and glad
at the same time.

Barley understanding myself
I am happy there is no one here
to try to explain it too.

I don’t know what I want.
I want both.
I want neither.
I want it all.
Whatever that means.

I don’t even know what it means.

So I go back to looking out the window.

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night breeze

I feel the breeze through
the bedroom window
on a summer night
as I sit with my baby
at my breast,

it’s the end of summer
and finally the coyotes
have returned.

their song comes through
the open window and in the
odd hours of the early morning
they keep me company
in the quiet and the dark.

The cool comes on quickly and
autumn makes herself known
as the warmth of the day
arrives later and later.

Daylight makes lessons learned
in the dark harder to remember.

There is a feeling of relief
and then dismay
when I realize that
I am still myself,
despite the drastic
changes to my
definition.

Stretch marks,
like any other scar,
are a reminder
of where I’ve been
a record on my body
of each destination
and crash.
A mind may forget
but the body remembers.

It is written on my bones
and this body will find a way.

In a time of crisis
I strain to remember
what coyote taught me
about the lighthearted
nature of the universe
I say it over and over again
in my head, hoping repetition
will make it stick.

Her mouth curves into a wide grin
around my nipple and
again I am in love.

 

 

 

 

Published on Zoomoozophone Review

Tracks

The grey skies
speak to me today
as I touch the
silver bone I
wear around my neck
to remind me of what
I already know:

what I am –
what I can do.

The days when
I can’t see it
come so often,

but truth doesn’t fade
just because it isn’t seen,

and I know that
all I need is coded
in my very cells.

Yesterday on our walk
I took a photograph of
tire tracks left in the mud.
They were not extraordinary
and I wondered why I stopped,
what pulled me there.

I am not
particularly
extraordinary
I think to myself
looking at my
messy desk and
empty coffee cup

but I still like
when someone
stops to notice
me.

IMG_6699

night breeze

I feel the breeze through
the bedroom window
on a summer night
as I sit with my baby
at my breast,

it’s the end of summer
and finally the coyotes
have returned.

their song comes through
the open window and in the
odd hours of the early morning
they keep me company
in the quiet and the dark.

The cool comes on quickly and
autumn makes herself known
as the warmth of the day
arrives later and later.

Daylight makes lessons learned
in the dark harder to remember.

There is a feeling of relief
and then dismay
when I realize that
I am still myself,
despite the drastic
changes to my
definition.

Stretch marks,
like any other scar,
are a reminder
of where I’ve been
a record on my body
of each destination
and crash.
A mind may forget
but the body remembers.

It is written on my bones
and this body will find a way.

In a time of crisis
I strain to remember
what coyote taught me
about the lighthearted
nature of the universe
I say it over and over again
in my head, hoping repetition
will make it stick.

Her mouth curves into a wide grin
around my nipple and
again I am in love.

Recently published in The Zoomoozophone Review Issue 3