i'll let you know when i get there

Are you? 

Maybe I should return to writing everything down. Is anything really safe in a cloud? but then there's the other reduced to rubble Is all of life just a dull slate grey? or is that just the shell tender cracked a part  or piece  an obvious lack just a child inside who will watch and repeat  patterns and cycles joys and defeats and barely understand it at all London Bridge check the news dull slate grey and bomb bright hues sun up sun set all those basic needs unmet What connects me to you? something borrowed  sometimes blue walk a mile stay the night still adjusting to the new late light walls intact and for now we're alright And luckier than we know.

I was two blocks from work and barely on time when a woman with a dog stopped abruptly in front of me and pointed at the sky.  I was startled enough to ask, "What do you see?" "The birds. They're migrating early." And then she fell in step with me as though we had planned to walk together.  In the course of two blocks, I learned about her sleeping habits, what she's learned with age, her hormonal imbalance that, even at 73, makes life unliveable without hormone replacement therapy.  She stayed with me, stride for stride, and spoke in such a confessional,  comfortable way I started to wonder if maybe I knew her- maybe I had met her before.   "This is my stop," I said.   "Oh, you live here?" "No, I babysit here." "Ah." "Well, nice to meet you.  What was your name?" "Joyce." "Have a great day, Joyce." Joyce ___ At the end of the check out line at the grocery store, a woman with bright purple ...

I went to a talk about particle physics at the library. I only understood a fraction of what was said; it was like listening to an entirely different language. After a good effort of trying to keep up, I sat back and spent the rest of the talk just appreciating that there seemed to be a good number of people in the room who did understand what she was talking about. Hooray for humanity! We are so interesting and interested in so many different things! We are so collectively capable! I go to these kinds of talks often enough, and that's usually how it goes. I remember writing poetry about quarks and covalent bonds through my undergrad Physics classes. I remember listening in awe to Dan Miles talk about the Higgs boson discovery thirteen years ago.  I knew nothing about it then and understand just slightly more now, but I remember really being in awe of his wonder.  Wonder adjacent, I suppose. More of a science gal in fancy than in fact, but still I go. The part tha...

Reclined at a ridiculous angle, waiting for the numbing gel to set in for a cavity fill, I stared at the ceiling and saw a commercial for a local funeral home that advertised using the faces and birth - death dates of a few recently departed.   It made me feel weird.   What an impulse we have.  The remaining.  The desperate instinct to send into the world some signal when the absence is felt.  He lived!  She lived!  We get the park benches and the plaques and the slabs of concrete and apparently the commercial spots.  Such a raw need, to feel that they will go on.  Some foreshadowing plea that somehow, might we all. Meanwhile, moths seem to be eating our winter wear and I'm afraid to check my collection of old journals and writing that are also stored under the bed.  What if there are holes in it all?  It occurred to me the other day that when I go, there's a strong likelihood that someone might just take a few glances and trash the...

A few years back, neon burst back into fashion favour for a season or so.  Little blurs of highlighter yellows and pinks could be seen against the grey of the Pacific Northwest.  Loud little waves from strangers. I remembered that moment the other day, driving through the rainy city where everyone had returned to their black jacket and generally neutral attire.   That neon- I missed it and I didn't.  Mostly, I wondered where all those clothes had gone.   In a heap on a beach somewhere? Landfill? Where does any of it go... the colours and people that for a time feel impossible to ignore? I guess ultimately I prefer the well-worn.  Neutral over neon. Not the ability to command, But the power to stay.