All day the forecast
when will yesterday’s storm hit
as if it were new
Categories
All day the forecast
when will yesterday’s storm hit
as if it were new
Windows open for
the first time in I don’t know
how long was it that
we were unable
to breathe without believing
the air was toxic
night sounds are so loud
have they always been this way
or were they waiting
for a reluctant
retreat turning the seasons
into something that
just happened somehow
we forgot we were supposed
to change who we are
now we must predict
the same thing happens again
when we all burn out
sound will outlive us
whether we keep the windows
open or inside
will we be there to hear it
I risked waking up
a sleeping child today when
the window showed me
a creature without
human accompaniment
and then another
I saw they were deer
through the steam and window shade
trudging thru the yard
and into the road
a car put its blinkers on
as they galloped down
the hill escaping
the frame of my camera
I fell back amazed
to my seat the child
remarkably stayed asleep
and slept a bit more
Why not pretend a
century within our grasp
did you figure that
you’d wake up knowing
world lost what you always knew
it could might have been
why do we live like
things will always stay the same
even different
we struggle to see
our lives lost to strands of time
stretching infinite
until they are not
Already I feel
the weight of days passing by
without a second
thoughts I might have had
were it not for radiant
change within our cells
how does the body
keep happening in this way?
how does the descent
let us forget not
without incident only
this face staring back
I would not be here
without this tense this presence
the future better
having you with us in it
In these waning days
when I might claim the age of
forty two let me
say without a doubt
there is something to be said
for a number to impart
the answer to life
the universe and everything
a collection of cells
congregating in
the semblance of a response
smiling tongues ululate
knowing ‘I love you’
is what we were meant to say
recognizing faces
as who we once were
who we may one day hope to be
No accounting for
how vivid my dreams have been
except for keeping
the blinds closed all day
makes the house a bit cooler
no other way to
let the light in but
flying to other countries
visit museums
from the vantage of my mind
where else is there to go now
Find someone who looks
at you the way my baby
takes a look at her
super high contrast board book
Cringe at history
playing out before our eyes
while I change diapers
though already full
sometimes she squeaks out some more
now unencumbered
all that we can do
is clean it up as before
we thought we were done
there is always more
but when you least expect it
you’re caught unawares
the remedy in your hands
Unfathomable
the child I hold in my arms
has fewer rights than
she had when she was
born seven weeks ago now
too late to go back
to when she had more
agency as a fetus—
this future voter
will always know what’s at stake
—And as for the court
the Wordle today is “smite”