no sweets no sangria no sun tips no sanguine soliloquy no salutes*
from the poet who speaks to me the most this year, here and there and everywhere
There are moments that cry out to be fulfilled.
Like, telling someone you love them.
Or giving away your money, all of it.
Your heart is beating, isn’t it?
You’re not in chains, are you?
There is nothing more pathetic than caution
when headlong might save a life,
even, possibly, your own.
Dedicated to Sim, who shepherded my firstborn to safety, and to the paramedics, a cop who cared, emergency staff, ICU angels, and long arms of love in our hold. You carried me this weekend.
* yes we cheered and hollered when our baby threw her graduation cap in the air with the pride and glory of distinction for every year in high school, for all the teams and sweat from drive and strides until the final whistle of every game.
A parade is due. Instead some words.
Soon…when I can breathe again in a recognizable pattern.