Writing is like

Unwrapping the cord from an earbud

Detangling strings of yarn

And tracing a footprint in time.

 

And then I lost it.

Track of thought and rhyme.

 

I had the thoughts running clear earlier today, but the running theme of impending loss surrounds me

And I know I am not alone.

 

Everyone is losing today.

Everyone.

 

When morning’s glory renews to the fresh dew of the day

I remember loss

And presently,

I wonder what the future brings

When bleak days are due to come

Into next week when I meet the lawyer.

Pondering over the administration of trust.

 

And Sadness hovers over me

In all its greatness

As I hold in the tears

And my throat grows sore

After a quick shop at Costco.

 

I don’t want to think of death

And Trust Administration.

Anymore.

Evermore.

 

I don’t want to think of my Mom’s tremors

Or my dad’s aching belly

Or how I  will no longer feel the sweet kisses

From my husband’s Brazilian stepmother

Landing on my cheeks.

She is fighting a battle today.

 

I don’t want to think Battles or War or Death

Or the Second Coming

Where the widening gyre turns

And the center cannot hold.

 

I don’t want to think of many things today,

But somehow these things made its way into my home

Down into my mouth

As a lump in my throat

Where the center cannot hold.