Posts for June 9, 2026 (page 8)

With my coffee,
I declare:
This is a good day
to go somewhere.

Where will I go?
I do not know.
Just take it easy
and go with the flow.

My Zoey:

I only have time

seeking good morning
peek their faces from covers
hello mother sun

these bones are tired 
        the kind of tired sleep doesn’t fix

it must be hard living every day like that

    harder than let on
legs  heavy, unmoving 
    living in slow motion

                                    tired, 
                                        so tired

    under my breast
on my ribcage 
    stabbing pain

    a knife of a life
i could have lived 
    instead

    there are easy days
breathing feels like
    privilege 

    but the heavy days
soundwaves
    bounce corner to corner

    thoughts
unfiltered & screaming
    in my mind 

    terror
where unconditional love
    should live

                        then…
                                    contentment 
                                                        just contentment

    heart is full
yet unable to be grateful 
    unable to bask in the sunlight 

    i am jealous  
of other timelines 
    where i am able to feel 

    unaltered, abundant
levels of joy 
    even on heavy days 

months old when you found us
after our Saturday shopping
one foot mangled and hungry  

fourteen years later
the orange tabby who
mentored you gone  

you watch as a diamondback walks by
and a black cat settles out front
waiting to replace you

        Yellow iris,
bearded lady
        sticking out her tongue—

Her voice, her walk, her gaze,
her whole way of being for chrissake,
is wrapped in velvet.
Every movement, every word,
soft and rich.

So alluring is her presence
that you almost can’t stop yourself
from reaching out to touch it.
How do you touch someone’s presence?
The physics of it aren’t clear,

but if you were to accomplish it,
you would come into contact
with the texture of grace
and it would be all you could do
to not sink your soft body

into her depths and roll around.
It would be embarrassing, of course.

You would do it anyway.

Feel free to suggest a title!

Some days it is like a circus
without the swirl of a carousel
as I listen to the news. Other days 
it is a funeral tears spilling onto the ground
wiping away the blood covering city streets.  

I try to understand the hate and inequity
that permeates the pores of the nation. 

It is if they forget the flight of the swallow
migrating south in autumn, 
the bloom of the mayapple in early spring.
Don’t they remember wild horses
walking the sands along the ocean’s edge,
the way a mother cuddles and warms her newborn baby
in the middle of the night. 

When it overwhelms,
turn off the news.

Be the artist spilling paint across the canvas with gentle strokes
to tell the story.
Be the writer blowing words to corners of the earth creating peace
with the language of sacred space.
Dance across the clouds dripping grace like freshwater pearls,
a pirouette waving a wand of lavender.