Days
There will be
days
that matter.
Today.
The birthday
of your mother.
All the days
between.
There will be
days
that matter.
Today.
The birthday
of your mother.
All the days
between.
The beginning is
never enough. Kisses
uncurl like
treasure maps
Keep secrets secret,
stowaways
along the path and
Anchors, always
anchors.
Reeling away
at your
calico heart.
Take careful stock of
empty. The room there is
to swim
in double spaces. Take
four strokes, breathe, take four
strokes,
breathe, take four strokes,
tuck, turn, breathe. Set
everything you’ve shouldered
out
to sea.
A time will come
to walk North.
Willows
usher the way.
Clouds wait.