Quantcast
June 2024
Summer is my favorite season
Summer is my favorite season” - 6/18/24
 
Summer is my favorite season! 
I’ve never been one to want to jump into the ocean
The idea of cooling off on a hot day by entering 
The glistening, dangerous unknown entity that 
Might, despite its magnanimity, swallow me whole or
Offer up a jellyfish, generously, upon which I might
Unintentionally step with abandon only to be stung 
By spontaneity’s misspent, misleading surrender 
Makes me as nerve-wracked as the idea of 
Being a bee-keeper (in spite of my affection for honey)
 
And don’t get me started about trying to swim
I was sent away to sleep-way camp at 5 with activities
So numerous I get dizzy just reminiscing: 
Water skiing, camping, archery, Polar Bear Club 
Early morning hikes, gymnastics on the beach
Softball games blinded by unrelenting sunshine
Row-boat rides, kyaks upside-down 
Trying pathetically not to drown
No - none of that felt “me” at all. I would’ve liked, back then,
To have been embraced by the adults in my midst to 
Just stay home…finally enjoying the delectable freedom 
 
That was “No more school! No more teachers telling us what to do!!”
I would have liked, some moments along my 
Uber-extra-curricular trajectory, to simply just BE
Butterflies in the garden, a porch swing, 
A nap beneath the weeping willow tree
Now, in my mature age, I’ve humbly succumbed to 
The middle way; I’m not too proud 
To say “it’s too hot to do anything”
Sipping iced-green-tea slowly, it occurs to me (not exactly profoundly)
That summer was the season my parents were a little too eager
 
To get rid of me maybe and in hindsight it that feels
More reasonable than I’d expect. I can understand
Adult humans’ need to protect their own interests,
Literal and figurative, apart from being mentors, schleppers, 
Disciplinarians and breadwinners
So now, sitting by the creek, poetry books in my 
Shoulder bag rhinestoned water bottle ready to quench
This thirst for genuine rest Winter and Spring
Don’t quell best I can exhale with confidence 
Understanding at last that Summer is the season
 
For putting everything else last but the birdsong’s
Grace, the wildflowers’ uplift the light breeze’s gentle
Touch fresh veggies prettiest berries seasonal depression
At blissful bay a guitar’s strum has a deeper ring a friend’s laugh 
A warmer hue the colors of summer bleed into one with
Red and green and yellow and blue and in this season 
All things, creatures, people and places whisper softly
“I understand and
I approve of 
You just being you!”
Rumination

“Rumination” 4/18/24

Without knowing the answer to every question
Without having the offer on the table like tension
Without grieving in the moment for what won’t evolve
How can any of us revelate or resolve

Going under the surface requires some invention
The cracking of earth’s taut dried out derivation
From stars so distant that the mind can’t surrender
To future’s bittersweet ridiculous fervor (benevolent)

Deep breaths as I whisper into futures (bravery’s) (favor’s) canyon
The echo of wanting (yearning) (slow-dance) swirling with abandon
Circling the reduction of rue like a demon
Oh fury oh passion hallowed and misshapen

Cross Continental

“Cross Continental” - 4/18/24

A man taps his foot nervously in aisle across from me
His is a voice that cuts through the din inevitably calling attention
Immediately ingratiating with the people surrounding him who seem to want to be left 
Alone

The man a few rows up looking at maps like they’re fine cinema
I wonder if he imagines himself in various places destinations unknown or familiar wrinkled friendly faces

When we land in the place we all knew we were going to
Clamoring for spaces in lines quick to auto-queue 
Each human being’s fine details culminating in expectancy expectations little brother 
A ritual currency

What if the lines we’re in pushing us forward 
Are actually regression hurling us backward
Limbs loose gravity-less wading in the air
Are we more where we’re going or more how we’ve cared?