Week 17 – I Could Write About the Rain

I Could Write About the Rain

I could write about the rain.

I could write about wet umbrellas,
About the keys in my coat pocket,
The puddles around the bean boots on my feet.

I could write about how for the first time in a long time, I am learning to trust my muscles.

I could write how I am learning, again, to swim.


Week 16 – These Mixed-Up Pieces, Part II

These Mixed-Up Pieces, Part II

The flames don’t last forever,
I tell myself, stitch the sinews and put each piece of china back in place.
I am a mosaic of mixed up pieces,
Of scars and lines and my life,
Tattooed to my heart like the sun across the sky, my story smoothed by time and a thousand eyes reading, reading.

I am a painting, built from layers, scrubbed over and made clean to be built again.

I am a survivor.

Week 13 – Tuesday Evenings

Tuesday Evenings

The dusk of the days are longer.

The sun sets at seven instead of eight again.

I take myself to Alphabet City on Tuesdays and watch the garden on East 9th Street grow. 

Every day, I walk my life toward change. 


Week 10 – August Rainbows

August Rainbows

I should remember, 

Life is only a summer storm.

The heat and the fire and the wind come quickly,

And if one can stand the rain – 

It is cool and quiet and peace, 

On the other side. 


Week 6 – tonight i am not scared to grow up

tonight i am not scared to grow up

for a long time,

i was afraid to grow up.

i forgot,

that just as the grass and the sunflowers and the cattails grow,

strong and tall and beautiful

So do I.