Filled with Sky

Each day,

I let a little more go.

 

Ideas.

Feelings.

Stories.

And fear

of the welcomed emptiness,

that will surely

take the place,

of everything,

that used to be,

me.

 

And then?

 

Birdbath,

filled with sky.

Facing Into the Wind

The crackling momentum

of awakening joints,

as I ease

these junctions

of bone

and tendon,

through their morning paces.

 

And then,

we’re off

The sum of me,

with all parts

accounted for,

and cooperating,

sometimes in protest,

but never refusing out right.

 

This entity,

called “me”

alive and creaky,

facing

into the wind.

Photo: Leigh Pumilia

 

Over 60

Over 60

this just can’t be,

I haven’t had enough time

to get here.