the forgettables

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The Forgettables

The big ones get all the glory.
Unforgettable moments,
firsts and lasts and in-betweens.
Never shy, always bold,
as they rearrange every molecule in our being.

But it’s the forgettables that matter.
Sly moments, uninvited and unattended.
They work undercover, acting alone on our behalf.

When the morning sun rises, bearing only light.
Long days that never end, because boring isn’t as bad as it gets.
Scraggly grass and rocky dirt that won’t hold a flower.
Dining with baseball for company instead of each other.
A twenty-minute commute for twenty plus years,
without incident, accident, sometimes not even a song.
All the days my daughters are alive.

The taste of toast, buttered not burnt.
The smell of sunscreen and chlorine, many pool-years ago.
The squirrel in the tree, eyeing me, right now.
The feel of a new notebook, fresh pens and a fine enough idea.
The neighbor boys and basketball noise, outside my window on every ordinary night.

The moment you bring me coffee,
(especially) when I point instead of ask,
and you love me anyway.

The forgettables
quietly, reliably, sincerely
rearranging us,
one tiny molecule at a time.

4.10.17


Like the Hawk
 
I heard a famous poet say
the hawk doesn’t ask who he is,
why he flies or if he should.
He’s just a hawk and does his thing
without question or doubt.
 
So why hesitate and deny
who we are and what we do
to survive this flight of life?
 
Why we love or grieve,
show up ready or stay in bed,
all day and the next?
Is it too soon to pry open
eyes and hearts,
too late to shed sorrow
(and the extra 20 pounds)?
Is it the coward’s way to return
what wasn’t intended
for our beginning and becoming
something new?
Should I get the tattoo (maybe),
buy the good wine (yes),
forgive and forget (perhaps not yet)?
 
Why measure and judge
(ourselves and others)
for being human,
flawed and fabulous?
For living too much or too little,
grounding ourselves in fear?
Is it possible (please say yes)
to accept what is,
and simply soar
when the air is right
where we are?

 

4.7.17

Photo by Kim Tackett, Vashon Island, WA

I’m taking an online writing course called Dive Into Poetry, offered by Jena Schwartz. It’s kind of amazing to discover something you thought you knew, and realize there’s so much more to learn.  You should check it out.

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