Sunday, April 6, 2014

Poetry Month 1

April in National Poetry Month and many of the lovely women and men I have participated in writing communities with over the years are joining the call to write a poem every day this month. Poetry has never exactly been my creative voice of choice, but being a part of a larger group of creatives tugging words up from streets of our lives excites me, even if we are all spread out in ways we couldn't anticipate way back when. So I'll join in as I can!



I am dreaming of leaving
Late into the morning.
After I should have been awake hours ago,
I am heavy in my bed, visiting the other apartments I have left.

Last night
I found that I had left behind two birds
together in a cage.
When I returned to sweep the last of my life
they looked at me weakly,
their eyes sad and their feathers fatigued with hunger
and I had no idea if I should just kill them right then
or release them to find a new home without me.

In my panic within the dream, I walked away,
choosing nothing.

Perhaps we are ships,
put into a harbor now, swaying next to the kitchen sink
watching each other as we rise and fall
through the tides of our lives, thinking
"but we came here for a quiet night away from the seas!"
Feeling cheated by the one truth of life.
So to make up for it
we grab hands from across the bed,
hold one another by the hips and hair and shoulders
Crying out "ah, isn't being in love as hard as going without!"

These women and I.

As our desert city heats up,
we open bottle after bottle of red wine,
sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor
passing slurred stories of our fears
round the circle,
Knowing these sweet nights will end
once we untie ourselves from the harbor
and move back into the higher seas of life.

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