Blue Grey
The summer rain falls
Giving me my perfect day
Blue grey like your eyes
The sky seems bigger here
not sure why
is it just me I wonder
I watch the billowy clouds go bouncing by
reminding me of cotton candy swirls
I imagine I can reach up and grab a handful
After so much rain
the sun is relentless,
like a lioness stalking its prey.
‘
Sweat flows in small streams
as real as a dream.
‘
People are as discomfortable
in ways they have forgotten.
“
‘ A large black cloud lies heavy
in the southwest.
” ‘
‘ The heat burns it off
after a few drops hit the windshield
‘ “
as I drive.
Me: My head is pounding.
The doctor: We can write another script, I don’t think anymore tests are necessary. You’ll be fine.
Me: I’m exhausted.
My dad: Being tired never killed anyone I ever knew. Get off your ass and on your feet. You can sleep when you’re dead, kid.
Me: The load of laundry needs to go in the dryer.
My daughter: I’ll get it in a minute.
Me: I forgot the grocery list at home.
Husband: It’s fine- we’ll just wing it! We’ll figure it out!
Me: My head is pounding. I’m exhausted. The load of laundry needs to go in the dryer. I forgot the grocery list. I want to cry–but I can’t and it’s caused my hives to start hiving. Who has time for frying anyway?
The World: That’s anxiety. That’s grief. That’s shame. That’s old trauma. That’s ADHD. That’s OCD. That’s chronic illness. That’s anger. That’s love. That’s the absence of praise. That’s the yearning for a soft landing in a safe spot.
you and i
are wildflowers
in Gods garden.
our sisterhood runs
deeper than these roots
and ties me to you.
it weighs on you
like hypoglycemia in the early morning
when i was younger
we’d just call it being low
but now the world is clinical
and full of ecstasy
tablets and pills
and acid rain to wash our fading denim
the fall of empires
feverish and marred like girlhood
i hope if you are ever stranded that you come to find me
go ahead and decay and i will rot and resurrect you.
this love is scarce
like the last sliver of light
“Close your eyes and
think of your happy place.”
Mine ripples with the hush of oars,
where the boathouse leans
like it remembers me.
I used to skip stones off the dock
as if they’d bounce forever.
I waterskied past laughter,
played croquet with no rules,
listened across the lake
to music, classic rock.
And when I saw it again—
my heart tugged,
trying to pull me
back home.
But time drifted faster
than I could paddle.
Now, the porch belongs
to other chairs,
the lake mirrors other faces.
And though memory lets me visit—
it’s no longer mine to go.
Remember when love was urgent,
the thought of it, the rush—
your body against another’s,
the tingle that ran along the curve
of a question awaiting an answer
that weighed as if it were too much
for anyone to hold, let alone you
and your young, spotless, meandering
mind and its stubborn surety of destiny,
of ever afters as clear as glass shoes
and dances at midnight and no chores
at the end of a long day, how could there be
an end to this high of a roller coaster,
the sky ahead and above and below
all tumbled inside your heart—how long
can forever stretch to fill an instant
you wonder, living inside tomorrow
as if today were a memory, a petal
pulled from the wheel of a flower,
each velvet, withered thread
weaving possibility.
