the deck
I am living in the land of undies on the floor, my old Barbies on the carpet, markers left uncapped, sleeping raccoons under the porch…
I am living in the land of
undies on the floor, my old Barbies
on the carpet, markers
left uncapped, sleeping raccoons
under the porch where I now sit,
a mama and one, two, three,
four babies, quiet human hand-like
reaching up pulling themselves up
on top of the deck
to investigate possibility at dusk.
Living in the land of watercolor rock painting.
Living the life of a towel on the grass
and a learning new tarot deck. Leaning
into quick dips, dunking my head
into the pool all the way in,
hair tangled for days. Living for
making my tiny nephew laugh
as I prance toward him devilishly.
“I’m a SNACK!” I’M A SNACK!,” I say,
over and over, and when I get
close to him, he pushes me
with one small foot, I pretend
to fly backward and smack into
the wall behind me, repeat, repeat.
Repeat.
Watching the big kids swim,
really swim! in the pool,
even in the deep end. Witnessing
the tops of trees,
bending to the wind’s will. Waiting
for the storm to come
after we’ve hauled everyone
out of the pool,
dripping and breathless.
Watching the sun emerge
afterwards, like a trick.
I am reading my favorite
mystery to my daughters,
doing all the voices. I am
explaining why
there are no rocks in the woods.
When I type these words, I am grateful.
I am grateful, but it feels strange.
Like thunder, and then the sun coming out.
Arriving here, after much confinement, the necessary strictures in place to protect us, holding our bodies away from other bodies in the city of many bodies, it is unsettling to be so free and easy.
One eye is still open, awake in New York.
I am stockpiling peace where I can find it, relaxation when I feel it. I will need it for later. There will be more stress, more worry.
So few emails come in,
I wait for some magic news…pull a card,
say thank you.