To know
that the time we spent together,
though short, and long ago now,
still loops through my mind
brings me joy,
amidst the anguish,
for it proves to me
I am open to finding love
everywhere.
Tag: poetry
floating
Snow blowing across the road toward me
as I plow the truck down the highway,
parting drifts to the shoulder
and opposite lane,
blurring the lines of where I’m supposed to be.
Billowing in the wind,
soft, fluffy and rolling balls of cotton
like I’m driving through clouds in a summer sky,
I’m floating.
my mind running away
I think back to years ago
recalling small, singular events
of you, and me, and us.
I start with what I remember,
then my mind switches to imagination
and runs away.
As it runs away
it conjures stories and conversations
I know never happened,
but are real enough behind my eyes
I sit confused, uncertain.
Did we kiss?
Did we date?
Did we love each other?
Or,
did we end before we could begin?
a different situation
It’s so easy to think
if in one situation,
any one situation,
I had said one different sentence,
my life would be completely different.
full-colored view
What lay asleep in blackness
only moments ago,
now shows me signs of waking up
with color and light shining on,
and emanating from, their being.
Trees and clouds, vehicles and houses
come into full-colored view
as dawn breaks into day.
As coffee courses through my body
and words fill the pages,
I too come into full-colored view,
into myself.
taking ten minutes
taking ten minutes
settle down and clear my mind
a chance to start fresh
more than self care
I take at least a dozen breaths,
formulate in my mind what I want to say
typing it out,
erasing, and typing it out again.
This is a safe space.
I ask the question.
How do you know when
you need more than just self care?
Reactions range from widened eyes,
to nodding heads and note-taking,
but him; he offers empathy.
We hardly ever need an engine replacement;
maybe it’s just an oil change or a tire rotation that we need.
Muted on the microphone,
I tremble and quiver in my thick wool sweater
as a tear slides off my cheek
and lands on the keyboard.
swimming upstream
I want to listen to my gut,
follow what I believe, deep down, is right,
but when listening and following
means swimming upstream,
it’s hard.
detour
Just a small diversion this must be,
some kind of detour I should follow,
before resuming my previous trail
of moving forward,
of moving on.
if I could stop thinking of you
Just imagine
the acres of free space
I could free in my mind,
and the hours of free time
I could unleash in my day,
if I could stop thinking of you.
Dawning Words 