breath

stepping out of the car at "the river," i breathe air that is fuller, denser, wetter, airier, than city air
it fills me all the way up

sip

a chocolate croissant, still warm from the oven
a strong cup of coffee, sweet and hot
one bite, one sip makes my day

free

too much to do, too much to do, too much to do....
anger slips in, undetected
then unleashes his venom when the smallest thing goes wrong
i want to lash out
instead i hide out
feeling
feeling
feeling
ah...he is spent
and i am free

glasses

taking my glasses off as I walk, the world is muted, soft, and blurry around the edges. like it is. not sharp and clear and in focus, like i would like it to be. i resolve to walk this way more often to train in seeing. 

dolphin

swimming, i am all business
pull, kick, turn, breathe.
pull, kick, turn, breathe. 
after awhile i start to watch the others
underwater.
it's not the usual crowd of would-be lochtes today.
on either side of me they are bobbing, paddling, floating, luxuriating.
enjoying.
i try to bring some of this energy into my own workout at each turn.
turn, twist, push, glide. 
turn, twist, push, glide.
it works.
i am a beautiful dolphin,
playing.
in my element.

crow

black crow calling
caw! caw! caw! caw!
anybody there?

lice

again. again. again. again.
the word haunts me; reverberating in my mind.
why? lice? again?
i breathe and remember...
there is no why.
there is only how. 

fear

 after a night of fear i try to understand what we are really afraid of. 
my guides speak to me loud and clear: all fear is fear of death.
conquer that and you will be free.

laugh

"iced breve caramel" latte is what the homeless woman orders when i ask if i can bring her anything
i laugh
only in seattle!

disappointment

disappointment.
betrayal.
alienation.
little by little i let them in and find this helps,
a little

octogenarian

beehive hairdo
boxy beige caddy
movie star sunglasses
what will i look like
when i am 80?

exhaustion

like a car revved too high i feel myself starting to burn out
chest tight
breath shallow
i need to stop
i need to rest
nothing will get done today

leaf

a leaf on the sidewalk catches my eye; i walk on.
stop.
go back; pick it up.
sunny-side-up yellow,
turns to spring-grass-green,
turns to compost-dirt-black.
the story of a life, in a leaf.

~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~     *     ~      
Happy Birthday to my second-born today. Here is a small stone I wrote about him.

forgotten

a forgotten poem tugs at my memory...the words are gone.

swimming

swimming I AM body and soul....

walk

on my walk the air is cool and damp. i smell something sweet and verdant. looking around i see a lone honey bee, searching for a last sip of summer.

sixteen

dance party in my car - "...at a pay phone trying to phone home...." - i'm sixteen again!

softer

early evening sky
tinged with pink
softens the world
like rose-colored glasses

massage

in the hands of grace my body relaxes and says, "ah-h-h..."

unraveling

letting go of "what i planned to do" in favor of "what is called for," i feel my ego unravel a stitch or two

sky blue

driving to the airport, i look up and see a sky the exact color of its crayon namesake
not light blue or pale blue or baby blue...sky blue

eavesdropping

listening to my boys talking and laughing in the other room, my heart swells

cheeseburgers

after swimming 40 laps
hunger overwhelms me
visions of cheeseburgers
dance in my head

goodbye

chalk drawings on the sidewalk fading away, as summer does too

cold

sniffling, snuffling, wheezing, with every breath
i fully appreciate being able to BREATHE