Vacation rocks. Today I went to a parent-teacher conference, during which my D1’s teacher told me how awesome she is, and planned the first stages of the laundry attack. Grocery shopped, then played race-around-the angle and sat on the stones in the sunlight. Good stuff. Heart stuff.
Try to poem happy, today? Okay:
This quiet is not a house, this heart is not a window,
this song is not a cry, this love is not a mistake,
this dash is not a race, this wonder is not confusion,
this skip is not a gallop, this poem is not a eulogy,
this breath is not caught up, this stretch is not a reach,
this month is not fall, these leaves are not dead,
this mulch is not soaking, this sorrow is not lighter,
this space is not misty, not yet, this is dawn without riot,
this is mostly October, mostly the stealthy month,
of slipping, down, down to the dark.
Get us ready.
Good night, Monday poempeeps. Peace to you, tonight.