Late summer hangs in limbo,cold air floats in on the water.The sun reminds me what will soonexist only in my memories. So I soak upevery walk I can get while remindingmyself to remain present, it’s a beautifullife, the heaviness is only as much asI choose to carry it.
Tag Archives: Photography
32
I am now the ageof my favorite numberin elementary school.8x416x248-16128÷428+4When I got 32as the answeron a timed math sheetmy body would relax.My brain didn’thave to do the math -it just knew the answer.
daily practice
look uplook outtouch grasssmell airsee waveslaugh hardstay latestart earlybreathe deepwear socksgo barefootfeel warmthknow yourselfaccept yourselfbe weirdfeel emotionsfree yourselffrom thecage youfind yourselfin thedaily practiceof reality
Sturgeon Moon
Two evenings beforethe sturgeon moonI saw this sightthat left me in awe.I headed towardsthe ocean in search ofmaybe seeing a mirrorto make sense of whatI was feeling.Joy floating through my veins –catching up witha dear friend,slowing down aftera busy few months,the significance ofnew possibilities thatcould await meif I so choose.
Morning Moon
The early summer hoursbring back childhood patterns.Following the morning moon acrossthe sky as I travel from road toroad, I smile and count the craters.In my contentment, I embrace thisstate of peace fully. Right now,it’s just me, my thoughts, my music,and the moon. Real life doesn’t existoutside this existence, not right nowanyway.
Years Without A Word
March 31, 2023 at 10:54 PMI haven’t written a word in a poem from inspiration in years. Life swept me away and off went my creativity. Four walls in large rooms and small rooms held my body still from seeing the beauty I once wrote in my poems. I haven’t worked on poetry. I readContinue reading “Years Without A Word”
Postcards
Your postcards now hangin my living room,I took two of them off the wallin your kitchen,moved them downthe roadwhere I seethe ocean whileI write this poem.The middle onewas by your bedsidewhen you died.I look at themand see allthe memories,all the summersI came hometo see youwhere I now callmy own.I carry your lovein your handwritingwith meContinue reading “Postcards”
On The Beach
People walkin the hazeI watchwith amazetheir abilityto remainstable wherethey cannotsee.They moveas if nothingspectactularis happeningin front ofthem, as ifthey coulddisappearand not beseen again.The body remainsgrounded toearth, the mindadjusts, normalizesthese unstabilizingmoments.
Spirals
In the summerthe spiralsof my minddrift differently.They lingerlonger –causingthe hazeto steadyinstead ofdissipate.I wanderthroughoutthe busynessof the seasonremaining withmy mouth atthe surfacemy bodyunderneaththe waves.
Here Is Where I Am Grateful
I listen to loons singwatch an eagle fly overheadremind myself to feel the airleave my lungsslow down for the momentits so easy to get lostin the busyness of the seasonso much going on time slipsthrough the crackswhile I’m not lookingbut here is where I watchthe sky turn pinkand appreciate the breezeagainst my tanned skinhere isContinue reading “Here Is Where I Am Grateful”
