i should not have been so happy for a cold snap
that last week of may in kentucky but i knew

i’m not okay / not yet /i can finally say out loud

in my heart / in my soul / deep in the marrow
of my bones i wasn’t ready to spend more than
15 minutes of any day on that porch by myself /
alone with my thoughts / just me and my coffee /

i’m not okay / not yet / i should start doing better

deadheading the pink knockouts we got last year
at the home depot / or tending the mums we bought
to support the softball team and planted on a whim only
for two of them to survive / revive / return this year

i’m not okay / not yet / i’ll just let myself wonder

which color of mums will sprout like it matters / it doesn’t /
i need to go to sunshine soon and pick out the impatiens
you loved in almost every color but i’ll do it alone without
your discerning eye & argumentative acumen in the car
to convince me that we need to have both pink and salmon

i’m not okay / not yet / i will be fine & the garden okay

i saved eggshells for months / collected their broken bits
in the plastic pork rinds barrel / same as the one we store
white half runners in for shucking / i’ll bake & grind them
[the eggshells / not the beans] to feed the soil this weekend
or maybe spread the chores out over the next week / breathe /

i’m not okay / not yet / i can only guarantee

i’ll take plenty of breaks to rock on the porch / pray / listen
to the grackles & jays / windchimes / watch the house finch
& family who’ve made their home in the license plate bird house
we hung outside dad’s window so he would have more to watch
than the day’s drifting clouds /the night’s twinkle of stars

i’m not okay / not yet / someday