Monday, July 27, 2015


Upon waking,
my brain retreats. 
I want
I want
to avoid the inevitable hopelessness
unenviable dread
that seeps through each beginning of each beginning of each day.
I try to lever myself
I try to pry myself
into the day,
but mostly I 
the pull of normalcy in favor of  my comfortable black murk.
On some days,
the sun reaches in and grabs me by the neck.
It's a best friend who refuses 
to watch me wallow when there is 
Outside waiting.
My legs are weighted by two-ton memories and
by thick magnetic mud.
I slog with the sun pulling my neck my arm my heart toward Outside.
If I can navigate this holy map,
make it to my front door, 
dragged along, then
a surfeit of,
glimmers of
a path appear
and grow exponentially into a widening view
this bird
this tree
this weed
this flower
this shadow.
This air
replaces the grey fizz fuzz buzz in my head.
And makes me feel.
The doorway is my magical portal
but it has a combination lock.
I fumble.


  1. I know there is more to this poem! I've felt the same way.


  2. A path appear
    and grows exponentially into a widening view ...
    I find myself on the other side of the telescope,
    eyes becoming less focused on the small details
    as my mind becomes more attuned to the bigger world:
    the sounds,
    the sights,
    the simple pleasure of earth underfoot,
    and it is in the catching of my breath
    that I finally take the time to relax.

    PS -- a bit of line lifting from your poem to make my poem. Thanks for the dancing under the sun this morning.

  3. Perhaps fitting for what was an overcast Monday morning, giving way to a summer afternoon mixed with clouds, sun, and still some rain- no matter how hard the sun tried to break through!

  4. Lovely. I know exactly what you are expressing, Susan. I wish many days in the sun for all of us.

  5. A recodification of your poem: No music yet. Working on that.