still marveling at the stone walls along the way
listening to local radio ads and trying to find the accent i used to have
it's hard when you're not local anymore.
watching my daughter ease herself through her first major injury
--toenail smashed in door--
breathing through her pain like labor
then later chasing sticks in the backyard, hobbling around chanting
chumash songs.
s'mores again, damnit.
using my mom's stamps and hearing how happy that makes her.
looking at my toenails and wanting someone else to paint them.
knowing i have to pack but avoiding that process because it seems momumental.
family secrets spilled like salt on the table, with limited reaction all around.
driving by the flower beds i helped to plant that one summer when cars still honked at my ass.
humidity wrapping me up in its embrace.
the sounds of people walking in this house
creaks of floorboards and wood
waking me up from slumber and soothing me back to sleep.
my lips burning from too much sun.
sharing space with a dear friend
wonderful in her steadfast kookiness
knowing i will be like her someday, and
then realizing i already am.
thank god.
talking like a teacher and knowing i am one.
cutting the back of my hair without looking
and trusting the dull scissors
blinking my eyes closed for longer than i need them to be.
the Red Sox game in the background like classical music.
pebbles stuck in the bottoms of my running shoes
fishing them out brings such sweet satisfaction.
anticipatory flighty thoughts that
worry my soul
but still my heart.
the feel of my daughter's hair after swimming;
thick with salt and clay-like in its bendability
the thought of a brush repellent.
succulent cucumbers
from my father's garden
picked by my kid with glee
and i miss them already.
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