reading in my journal
the lesson I learned two years
ago the same lesson
I was so thrilled
to learn today
*
I leave the dishes
when you say “let’s play,”
not because I want
to play but because the day
will come when you won’t ask
*
the veil
of hurt, though it
weighs nothing
I am utterly unable
to lift it
*
sowing poppy seeds
in the meadow together,
though it will be months
before we see stems
already I feel blossoming
*
what would be left
if we solved all our troubles—
just a breathing
sometimes when I get very still
I am still not still enough