yes.

in the clearing

in the morning

is where i find myself

never you mind,

she says, her hands dusted with flour

and tanned from the sun

never you mind where you came from,

'cause today is the only thing that you know

and you're in it

and that is all.

too grave thoughts

when too grave thoughts

fill me

let a laughing moment

be my breathing

let a warm-ish winter

wind blow through me

when too grave thoughts

are under me

let the crush of autumn

fetch a memory

let the idle noise of

night bring "still" to me

try

in the grey

of sunday afternoon

you do not try

i observe from within my

dawdling dowdy fall clothes

i need a proper coat

i'm stuck in myself again

and you do not see me

i could let you

but don't have the energy

i crawl

life is crawling sometimes

crawl to your next

fork in the road

pausing, your yellow feathers

or tentacles

or whatever

feeling the breeze

sniffing for clues

north wind blows

too much scent away,

away from this moment

and from where you came from

leaving you blank,

and odourless

hamburger stew

it tastes like how

mom used to make it

keith green record blaring

dark out already

6 pm

waiting by the window

and the fern

in my prized

yellow & blue

rutland voodoos

hand-me-down

t-shirt

trying too hard either way

i'll be

your colour for today

let me wash over you

hide you in translucence

carry you like i'm the water

you're the raft

i'll be

a rat in your river

a rowboat 'round the bend

crash into my weather

wear words for protection

from my wind

way underneath

disappear

under layers of clothing

layers of make-up

and hair dye

and trinkets

trinkets

i tie

around my wrists and

neck and fingers

and ankles.

deep down

way underneath

sit in the shelter

of my

woman-made cocoon.