Moving

summer days

boxes filling up

things given away

whirring back and forth

tear apart the old

throw it away

take the rubbish to the bin

only take what serves you

accruing motion

how does one move forward

and still feel no motion

there is always motion

at times imperceptible

but always there

at the accrual of days

Lime

Squeeze the lime 

with a firm grip.

Pulp tears and 

tears flow down

Until at last 

the pulp is exhausted

Firsts and Lasts

How many firsts have you lived 

How many remain

How many lasts have you lived

How many remain

It is not for us to know

It is only for us to live

finite commodity

precious precious precious

what could it be

what matters most

what is always 

         in diminishing supply

what's ticking away

what's falling away

second 

            

            by second 

grain 

         

         by grain

drip

drip

drip

drip

...

drip

drip

drip

...

common time

settling down

the sink's throat

drip

drip

drip

hourglass

ticking clock

mind the drip

watch the face

to know 

what you know

For K., at Seven Years Old

I want to tell you that it's ok,

you won't be in school forever.

That someday you won't want

your mom with you all the time.

Your voice is all I needed to hear

to know the sadness inside.

So young, so sensitive to the world,

I will guard you to the end of my life.

Dearest K, you have already set

the world alight, if only you could see.

I see it in all you are, My Dear One.

These Days of Healing

Cut flesh stitched

back together.

There is no healing

without pain.

What is gone

reveals the path.

Living in this body-

embracing 

all pain and joy.