Is there anything heavier than a newborn?
Is staying just not leaving? All these years on the wind, I have no roots to put down.
Optimism has returned. I can do anything . . . but I’m still me, so only if I want to.
I am stuck in the space between what I think and what I do.
Not all who wander are lost, but I certainly was. Am?
The path that leads me away from myself always leads me back. It turns out, there’s nowhere else I can go.
When we finally arrived at our new life, I found the person I had packed up would not do at all. Four boxes of clothing and only two pairs of Levi’s?
Who have I become?
I went back to open that dark door again,
but found only a small, bright window where it used to be.
And what should I make of that?
It’s been over a year and I just switched my focus forward from all I left behind. Had I waited a moment longer, I might have fallen right over the edge of my life.
Motherhood broke my heart and I can’t keep anyone out anymore.
I’m going back to ugly places, where there are beautiful lines, poorly housed in shanty poems. And when I get there, I’ll be kind to the girl who wrote all that falling down poetry. Even if she’s a stranger now, I walked here in her shoes.
Outside, the wind is swirling so many autumn leaves so high, it’s like living in a fall snow globe.
It feels like I have a place in this lovely, little town; I’m just not sure where it is yet.
To love and care for my old dog, who loved and cared for me so very well in his prime, has been one of the greatest honors of my life.
Don’t tell my husband or my mother in law, but my daughter is reminding me of everything I ever loved about Christmas before working in retail destroyed that love. At least I thought it was destroyed . . .
We were going to call our little farm Boldlygo, but just the other day, my sweet Sunshine brought me a book off of her shelf and we read it together. It was a long-forgotten favorite of mine and fits too perfectly to pass up naming our place The Tomten Farm.
As it always does, fall is pulling me into myself where all the winter words are, and though it hasn’t always been a pleasant journey, I find myself looking forward to writing from that dark, silent space.
I don’t know how he is always the man of my dreams when my dreams are always changing. I just know that every day I wake up and it’s still him.
These are some of my favorite one liners from years past that I’ve never written poems around. Maybe now that I’ve got a bit more time to write, I’ll be able to pull a few poems together. : )
Stop craning your electronic necks, there’s nothing to see here.
Look at life through the eyes of another
and you may see things as you haven’t seen them before
but you still can never see just what they see.
Some of the things experience teaches us aren’t true.
I wanted to wash my heart, hot/cold, heavy duty cycle.
I wanted to open my mind and let all the facts fall out.
I wanted to write, but I couldn’t even breathe.
I’d love to do this another way
but my eyes cling to their color-
I simply am what I am.
Happiness can only be made with what you have.
The box is too small.
If I don’t start thinking outside of it soon . . .
I put away my knitting early tonight.
No matter how many tidy rows I stitched
my thoughts wouldn’t follow suit.
If the answer were in this coffee cup, I would have found it twice by now.
Black Ink Birds 