Gets You Out of Bed In The Morning

Working in the emergency room last night
listening to a woman screaming because she isn't getting
what she wants

I've known her since she was fifteen years old
and she's been screaming since
long before that

My daughter calls in the middle of the screaming
to ask if I'm alright,
a friend texted her a message saying
there may have been a murder on my street

I'm okay, I tell her, don't worry, I'm okay

Meanwhile, I'm writing up an evaluation about a man
who hasn't slept in a week and his poor eyes,
I want to cover them with my hands

I spend several hours driving when I leave that place,
and at long last find my bed

This morning, I don't want to leave it
but the female voice from my GPS says "bear up"
somewhere inside my head and I begin the day.

Enough

feels like September
with the cool night rain
stirs memories, used-to-bes
other, better versions
of yourself

once you get into that swamp...

That Moon Again

The one in late July you've come to know
driving tonight through dark farms and woods
making a right turn directly into it's rising
nearly full, face to face, you hold your breath
an ache in your chest - tell the truth - in your heart
you still love, however choked and twisted,
you still do

Drop

Morning followed the reunion, the kissing of heads,
and it was even harder to rise than usual, my eyelids magnetically
drawn together, the pull of nonsense dreams, avoidance

All day that drowsiness followed me, called to me,
my highest ambition, simply to drop

My Little Hepburn

She strides around the corner
tall and sleek, a jet setter now in
big-lensed sunglasses under
her new Parisian sun hat

I wait, approach with a
single rose and a hug, and
am relieved to find
she still knows who I am

Generalized Anxiety Disorder

confined in blank space without knowing its dimensions
stifling or vast, the result is the same
motionless and stale
unless you count the futile
pacing and spinning