Member-only story
An Insane Wind
“Suppose an insane wind holds all the hills
while strange beliefs whine at the traveler’s ears,
we ordinary beings can cling to the earth and love
where we are, sturdy for common things.”
William Stafford, from “Allegiances”
Though, this certainly is not paid vacation
No vacation at all
My therapist said to call him if it gets too much
Awhile ago I might (I did) go
“The scene here, riverside/No I’m here and now, now,/Got my wits as much as anyone else does/But I am dreadful at dropping things.”
& walking there & then I can imagine myself to my ownself be true
I was in the sun and the edges of the shadows were a dull gray
didja used to crayon like me, hard on the outer edges, softer on the inside?
It’s been too long since I was feeling all my oats & seeds & raisons d’etre
I’m not recovering well from a punch in the gut
I guess because of my size I’ve been allowed a glass jaw rutting out
My big ole size deceived me. I’ve fallen hard
But I can hold on to hard things for awhile
until they’re comfortable enough no
until they’re imaginably familiar enough to hold in my own tender hand
