on lunch break

how nice it is

to sit by the river and unwind,

blink by

blink.

 

you know your same-old view

in the city:

skyscraper tree tops

that leave you wanting for a chickadee

 

where can I find just one bird?

(the pigeons are beautiful, mind you.)

 

I yearn to hear a song;

the water gives it to me–

it gives it to us

as long as I keep my ears open

I can hear it all the way from the skyline.

 

remind me how love songs go, again?

does he start?

am I the minor chord?

 

the wind trickles in;

between my toes

the water hums.

 

my shoulders sigh

as I remember how easy it must have been

 

to let

doors open

before windows closed,

families eat meals together

after swimming through the day.

 

the world stills;

my eyes close;

and I tell my heart,

“It’s okay

to remain

open.”

623d119e2a5debfd6b756495d7778af9.jpg

January 21, 2016

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Blood

It is sacred–

like limited water

running across the Sahara

I nourish every sip

of forgotten holy land,

hand born privilege

unlimited love

my face mirrors my father’s,

gives thanks to my mother’s

three-time-giving-birth-

to-poetry

that kept the old river running,

just added some new water to the brink.

 

Family:

it is sacred

for never will a friend abandon themselves

to meet me at the train station, the airport

California air, full sun

reminding me I will have my blood

always,

albeit running its own course,

it will continue to run to the bottom of our sea.

 

August 31, 2014