In the ragged purr of the cat
in my lap I hear all the sun
she has yet to curl into,
all the mice she has yet
to chase, all the days
we don’t have left.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cat, death, letting go, poem, poetry on October 17, 2017| 3 Comments »
In the ragged purr of the cat
in my lap I hear all the sun
she has yet to curl into,
all the mice she has yet
to chase, all the days
we don’t have left.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged knots, letting go, monkey fist, parenting, poem, poetry on September 24, 2017| Leave a Comment »
I’ve spent years learning to tie the monkey’s fist,
wrapping the long working end of the rope
around the fingers of my hand. While rocking
and nursing and feeding and soothing, I’ve held
the first set of turns in place, then made three more turns
with the rope. While reading and chasing and
swinging and catching, I’ve learned to pass the end
through the inside of the knot, to make turns inside
other turns. And pull it all tight, just so.
I have wanted to perfect this heaving line knot,
something I might use to throw to my son
to save him when he drifts away.
I have practiced the art of the throw, but it seems
I have tied my own hands by accident.
And now that it’s time to untether the line,
my hands want only to practice what they know,
holding on, holding on, holding on,
how clumsy this new art, letting go.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged acceptance, letting go, poem, poetry, surrender on May 10, 2017| 5 Comments »
unable to hold things together
I open my hands, let everything drop
and feel how the world holds me
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged hands, letting go, love, poem, poetry on February 26, 2017| 1 Comment »
Like a boot takes the shape
of the foot that wears it, I imagine
my hand might come to take the shape
of yours, your hand—something
I was made to hold, made to move with,
made to let go.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged holding, letting go, poem, poetry on February 21, 2016| 1 Comment »
is it one small child
or the whole world
I cradle
*
this longing
to bring you a small bouquet
of possibilities
*
my limbs a clef,
I circle the changing
song of you
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged letting go, love, poem, poetry, possessiveness, relationships on February 10, 2015| 3 Comments »
I fling open my arms
to greet the whole world
and you duck and run
right beneath
my wide embrace—
it seems
holding you means
letting go
of everything
everything
else
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged letting go, love, poem, poetry, roses on December 13, 2014| Leave a Comment »
these lovely days—
scattering their petals
like summer roses
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged buoyancy, letting go, poem, poetry on October 28, 2014| 1 Comment »
just before I drown
I remember all those beautiful rocks
I put in my pockets
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged canoe, letting go, poem, poetry on September 14, 2014| 2 Comments »
why wear a red dress
when you can wear
a red canoe?
*
trying to memorize
these waves and the way they rise—
already distracted by those waves
*
casting for fish
I hook my own loneliness—
it steals the bait, swims away
*
I tell myself
I would have jumped in
if the boat hadn’t tipped first
*
I could swim better
if I let go
of this paddle
*
just when you think
you’ll never forget, all that you
can remember later
is that there was something
very special not to forget
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged letting go, poem, poetry on September 7, 2014| 4 Comments »
After the sunflowers
have dropped their pollen
and dropped their leaves
and hung their seeded heads
to dry, let me sit here
in the garden where
it is not quite yet all
dead, where the calendula
surge in orange bloom,
their seeds not yet
dark brittle moons, and if
I still think that I know
anything of how
things go, then
as the dark and cold
grow stronger, let me
sit a while longer,
and then a little more.