The Poetry Marathon

She peeks into my room
afraid to disturb my writing….

Mom, can I show you what
I’m packing for Chicago?

Sure, I say, and sadly she is surprised that
I’ll actually stop and look right now.

Shirts, skirts, shorts, leggings all laid out,
alongside her plans, hopes, and dreams.

Does this look ok? Will I look older? Did I choose the right things?
It’s been a long time since I’ve been there.

Leaning in, I see her worry unfolded, wanting to be sure of choosing correctly;
part of me thinks it’s not just about clothes.

I say your choices are great – are they a comfortable fit for you, do they make you happy?
I hope she hears I’m talking about more than clothes.

Just remember, dear one, take your dreams with you too,
don’t toss them into the pile of rejected sweaters.

Oso, the great bear
soft ruffled fur
meets me at the door with toothy smile
bows in his downward dog
follows at my heels
croons in play
rests chin on my foot
gazes up with copper eyes
sees into my soul

leaving home four hours
the middle of marathon
was bad idea

Ciel shimmies up that silky blue like a monkey
wrapping and weaving it around herself when she reaches the top
a pause
that’s my heart up there
I hold my breath
SNAP
she launches herself into a drop
tumbling over – once, twice, three, times
jolting to a stop, grin breaking across her face
some say you must be crazy to let her do that
I say look at her – so lithe, so joyful up there
she says needs her daily dose of upside down
I’d be crazy to say no to that!

double yellow ribbons unfurl before me
disappearing round the next bend
so many hours in the driver’s seat
shuttling lovelies to dance

some days I’m spread thin, tearing at the edges,
grumpy and desperate to be home

some days it’s quiet, they read or nap,
and words and images tumble out of the sky into my mind

some days, yes some days
secrets are revealed
fears and worries poke out
hopes and dreams slowly unfurl

these are the days I remember that no time is wasted
these moments are precious and
I will be lonely for them when they’re gone

Turns out I didn’t need to be there, in the room
to know you had left us.

I felt your slowing in my own body,
like a clock slowing down and down
hands coming to a stop –
time still.

Crawling onto the couch,
curling into a ball in my old robe
breathing in…..out……..in…………out
slower…….still

The phone rang. I already knew you were gone,
I was with you all along.

fishing reminds me of you-
torn hat, vest, soggy old shoes, rod and spinner
I watch the curve of your strong calves
as you spring from rock to boulder upstream
standing in shallows, lying in wait for your prey

fishing makes you smell like the river-
of wet leaves and dirt
and I like it
dried salt on your neck tastes good
the warm curve of your arm around my back
you smell like home to me

Here in the desert
I dream of orcas
rippling through water.

Awake, their memory
undulates rhythmically,
deep in my chest.

I am as vast as the sea.

Most days I am far down deep
waiting
searching for clear sky through veiled layers
in hopes of breaking the surface for breath

drowning in BUSY-ness

then, in a dream of whales
I wonder
What would it be like to swim?

Confession

I wish I could tell you
we ride every day, or at least a few times a year.

Truth is our horses are lawn ornaments
since we are consumed by work, school, activities.

I wish I could tell you that I spend time each day,
appreciating nature and centering myself.

Truth is most days I’m just hanging on
trying not to fall off Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride.

I want to believe I can hop off the ride
once and a while.

Truth is I find more ways, like surfing the net,
to distract myself.

I want to believe, this too can change.

Truth is I love my crazy life –
husband, kids, animals
crazy schedules and all;
I just need to take the blinders off once and a while
and look around.