it may take longer than i want but i’ll get there

helping mica with her zipper
and cynthia helping me with my knot
and me loaning cynthia the sequinned kerchief
not sure if you heard i tell stan
but lunch is a black tie event
crinkle of harnesses
packed into plastic packages
while i remove seeds from zinnias
and joe stretches on the ground
to my right
mica and i gathered around
living room tent
assembled in exchange for a poem
discussing tarps and stakes and seam seals
unnamed phenomenon:
the fleeting space between waking
and the washing-in of
the reminder/realization/replaying of death
(of a person or relationship)
alton’s soft voice
carried across the line
from tuba city
when sawblades become needles
and the place-holding power of a knot
is revealed_______
still finding my way through the jumbly
scribble of feelings and healings i say
i’ll get there. it may take longer
than i want, but i’ll get there.
i just haven’t arrived yet – turns out
i’m an in-progress creature
(healing, but still so tender)
then sign: in fumbling human-ness

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