Why is it so impossible to err, pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and consider it a step in the right direction?
Month: June 2020
Pandemic Poem #31
or, Things Learned Walking 5 Miles on the Solstice
East to West, Roundabout
The distance traveled by
a roadkill raccoon's liver
is twice that
Pandemic Poem #30
First day cycling since fall.
Why not sooner?
Come home to nap
on the deck
Protest Poem #1
Knowing a person
is not the same as
knowing a person.
Meditation 6.10.20
I was very aware before meditating of being in a very scattered, very headspace energy. I have just started a new relationship (not entirely sure it qualifies as a relationship yet, simply a new friendship?) and when this happens in my life, my thoughts always pull me out of the energy of the moment
Pandemic Poem #29
Why should this be difficult?
Lyrical linkage of worldly words
into phrases and pages
5 Unique Ways to Start a Conversation With a Widow
Seems my family and friends are having great difficulty talking to me since my hubby's death five and a half months ago. In that time, exactly a dozen people (excluding my teaching colleagues, whom I see daily) have been in touch with me the person, not me the widow.
NYE in Nashville 2020
No dress to press
No boots to scoot
No lipstick swiped in a rush
Pandemic Poem #28
Wake at six, nap at nine, second date and three miles from eleven to one
Life has been reduced to numbers.
Connecting the dots correctly
First Lessons in Widowhood, or How Shit Gets Real in the First Five Months
From the time you stop counting the minutes between your spouse's last breaths of earthly oxygen (I stopped at 7 minutes and 23 seconds before I called my dad to my husband's hospice bed in the dining room to help me count), shit gets real…real fast.
Pandemic Poem #27
Started out
by sleeping in
First night of more than four hours
in seven days.
What You Don’t See 9.12.16
Dear two bikers coming down the big hill at Battelle Darby Creek, as you rounded the path that parallels the creek itself:
Pandemic Poem #26
First date #10.
I matched three Brians on Bumble in one day,
but this was the only one
So Close But Yet So Far
I was almost proud of myself today.
Almost.
I made it almost an entire day, at least from 5 a.m. until about 6:50 p.m. without crying once. And by crying, I mean even feeling that ball of tears start wadding itself up in the middle of my gut. You don't have to have waterworks to cry, you know.
Pandemic Poem #25
6 hour Yoga teaching training
Wake early, write.
Give away my day
Words by Beth 