what if we never were alone?

Just past the post,
keep walking. 
Let your neck flex,
eyes raise, and 
lock on a few future
intents.
Have patience. 
Be gracious,
unfazed. 
Then, step away
from devices. 
Let loose 
from disguises and
expect some fatigue;
face to face
is hard 
with all of
this noticing
without
notifications. 

greening

~for lisa 


Away from the cold
Buried 
Nestled 
Foretold
Sleep the seeds
Beholding wisdom. 
Well below the weeds. 
Sunlight 
Sorrow 
Plans for tomorrow 
All can happen
In the order of
Our choosing. 
But really,
Life happens
Sprouts
Despite resistance. 
And on its
Insistence. 
In its
Fashion. 
And if the
Seasons have 
Taught me anything
It is that they
Are beautifully
Completely  
Unpredictably
Far less
Binary than
Ecclesiastes
Could have imagined. 
The bloom
Starts invisibly
In the dirt.
Listen for its
Whispers. 
Deeply. 
Survey
Wait
Routinely in
Patches of sunlight. 
It looks for
You too. 

the impossibility of quiet

It has a texture, a dust
residue. 

Like a reminder after the too loud moment

or like the space between the fall and the tears. 

It has a gravity,

like the falling feeling as air escapes the room

or an ombré filled space where you once were. 

It is volume,

like the empty cup you keep overfilling with chatter

and the sound as another command hits the floor. 

It is fear,

like the moment after the bump in the night

or listening to you lightly breathing, but actually checking proof of life. 

It is familiar,

like watching a thing long enough to behold it

or like our hands falling into a folded resting form. 

It is the thing you crave, then a thing you fear. 

It elevates will. 

It antagonizes while you await results.  

It takes a beat before expecting to be noticed. 

It is the moment just before acceptance. 

It is the disturbed air warning as the subway shoots past. 

It is indecision between two emotions, fear and excitement, because they both feel the same in my body.

And sometimes, sometimes, it is the sleepy gaze from my cat atop the couch.