Spring me forward

What I didn’t understand
when I first woke up
was that by nearly 7 o’clock
I would be running hard on
the treadmill, peering out
onto a translucent blue sky
peppered with puffy clouds

Blue sky
Not black! Not black
like the winter sky, trapping
everyone in tarps by a
measly 5 o’clock.

That dusty blue sky, and
a peculiar gent sitting
right outside, braiding
some long, purple grass
to sell as a rose at the
gas station.

People do not enjoy
crafts outdoors in
the winter. This
was a spring night.

A gentle reminder
of happier times,
when the outdoors
is kind.

Okay, please.

Spring
me forward.

THE HALLUCINATOR

The hallucinator sees
the contents of their mind

spread out before them,
like dusty old knickknacks

brought up from the basement
and strewn out in the front yard.

Their minds become a
kaleidoscope.

They look at their life
and see themselves
as a miracle.

An accidental poem by this article in The Atlantic.

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Volunteer Park Conservatory, Seattle

THIS GREAT LOVE

This great love:
it bursts into bloom,
it grows to fit any
container.

All of the particulars
change: city, age, job,
even friends.

We’ve been to the bottom
of ourselves (and each other).
We’ve been frustrated,
frightened. And yet,
we have wandered out
of the darkest crevasses
unharmed.

It’s magic.

Golden Gardens, Seattle

THE SUNLIT UNKNOWN

Certain days, it
feels more real
than others.

Sudden understanding,
moments like a
wallet filled with
a finite number
of bills.

Curiosity asking:
“Just what will
I miss most?”

Young adults
everywhere wondering
what it takes: to
enjoy a job or to do
a job to enjoy life?

Intense but brief
relationships offer a
certain pattern–
patterns become the only
long-term investment.

Curiosity asking:
“Is there a moment
when you finally
feel adult?”

Turned off by the
idea of ‘waiting’
for damn near
anything.

Minds plugged into
computers, envious
of the coffeeshoppers
tapping feet to music,

Possibly reading,
researching, reflecting–
something personal
to gain.

Stretching ‘breaktime’
like a theraband.
Who’s watching?

Kiwi awnings at, I
admit, my favorite
coffeeshop.

Certain fondness,
a certain unknowing–
“What will I miss most?”

Never underestimate
the gravitational pull
of the place where
you gained financial
independence.

Also: where you
curated a fine group
of ‘adult’ friends.

Even when it feels
real, this hawk-shadow
of swooping change,
I can’t deny my
giddy disposition:

Us, hand in hand,
walking confidently
into the sunlit unknown.

 

Written on February 11, 2014…shortly after Brenton & I decided we would quit our jobs and relocate from Philadelphia to Seattle. We made the move on June 23, 2014.

 

 

TRASHDAY, A TEAM ACTIVITY

Down four floors with our
rubbish–2 fat paper bags with
recyclables, a greenish orb
of warm compost, one small
knotted white bag,

We are ejected into the
parking garage, concrete
and sloping. Through one
gate, eager to sort it
(and forget it).

They pile out, two-by-two:
neighbors with giant coolers,
discarded lamps, pizza boxes.

Trash day, (which is actually
any day when you have dumpster-access)
it occurs to me, is a team activity.