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It is over, this vacation of ours, and it wasn’t nearly long enough.  The fact that I have to go work a double tomorrow is making me cry.  It just wasn’t nearly long enough.  I vaguely remember us saying that we would only take half the break week off in order to save our vacation days, which have been pretty well wiped out by this year’s medical stuff.  LAME. LAME! I’m refusing. That’s funny if you work where I work. I am totally on my own agenda.

So, we travelled FAR today, and are exhausted.  It is a good exhausted. It is better to be exhausted from things of your choosing, than to be exhausted from things you have to do.  Which is what I will be tomorrow, which is why I’m cranky tonight.  I was SO burned out, so spiritually emptied by that place, that I really needed a full week to recover from it. I’m just. not. ready.

Cranky poeming is the worst.  It invites all the doubts.  Like, who cares if I contribute more crappy poetry on the internet? It’s not like there’s a shortage. Like, I can’t do this, because it is hard and embarrassing and it is making me feel crumby.  The only way I can grapple with these thoughts is to say, well, I said I would, so I’m going to. And even if the only one who reads these and cares is my husband, that should be enough. I told him I’d do it for a year, and I’m going to. I do enjoy proving stuff to him.

rabbit sign

I don’t have any idea what tonight’s effort will bring. I’m going to try to capture a moment from the trail this weekend.  I hope it comes through, because it was amazing.  I’m also using my crankiness as an excuse to write a small poem, small meaning short, because the moment was short, and I want it to stand by itself.

Extremely Rare Lynx

When the sky is white there is bise blue here

in the trees, alone with breath, and listing slopedown,

we glide into the land

of creatures fabled and lost,

lost and fabled, or just waiting through ages,

for us to go away.

Beings of other belongings and vantages, what do you see, of me from there?

Remains of the prey on the snow,

bright drops and scuffs of red,

some fur, but not much,

all that’s left of this cute lagomorph

are the hindquarters,

evidence chase, wide and pulsating,

and the weight of watching.



Gah. Have I mentioned how embarrassing and horrible it is to be putting my first drafts out there? Well, it is. Tomorrow something golden for sure. Sigh.  Well, I suppose I do have lots more days this year. I’d still like to make something from that moment.  We really did see the hind legs, poor little hare. I wish we’d seen the lynx.  I’ve always wanted to. Well, I’m off to bed to see if I can’t sleep off this grouch.  Happy Tuesday!