all the me me me of being

the tiniest vole (about 2″ long) in the palm of my hand
the sheer softness of their fur
after i scoop them away from the toss-about game by mama cat’s paws
and set them hopefully in a safer place
_______

replaying the thing that an interviewee said
on the broken boxes padcast a few days ago
about our gifts coming from creator
and how we honor creator when we share them
and how key this seems
and how if i take this concept to heart it might help me shift away from any discomfort of
all the me me me of being a maker
_______
the sadness and overwhelm and i don’t even know the word
for this country mouse to walk through the long aisle of a grocery store
and something like astoundment or onslaught or impact
of shelf after shelf 
of chip bag after chip bag
all that plastic
all that dead food
all that capitalism
lined up
shiny pouch after shiny air-puffed pouch

_______
i’m going to mom out just a little longer cynthia says
at the train station where she lingers long enough
for me to look over my shoulder and wave as i board
the chicago-bound train
_______
joolie’s hazey purpley pinkish photo
of the double rainbow as seen from the hospice 
in which her mom began the great crossing over
_______
must be something going on astrologically i keep saying
about my dear dears and one of them welcoming their first baby
from the other world into this one
and one of them sending a mother off
from this one to the next
and one of them fielding the raw heart-ness of a sudden breakup 
after four years
_______

from the water world: 

Swimmers wait for the start of the “Monte-Cristo challenge” (“Le Defi Monte-Cristo”) swim event at the Chateau d’If off Marseille, southern France.

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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