Ok, yes I am writing to just be writing. I made the commitment to blog everyday. So these are not masterpieces -or inspired but they do contain memories and what I am feeling. Probably not something that should be shared. Oh well, it is what it is and yes, therapy. Does it bother me to share? No. It's my writing persona. Just as going onstage is acting out a different character so writing is a different person than who I am. Probably a wee bit more or too much so dramatic. There is something about playing with words that I find comforting and soothing. So I am self- soothing. I am trying to get over this time in my life.
Alive
“Good to see you alive.
Me too.
How are you?
I’m fine.
Well, plugging away at least.
Sometimes I even forget you are out there.”
I get that rush
of your name
then anger all over again,
Then just sad…
It’s called:
Settling.
Deciding.
Replacing thoughts.
I go to work,
working on,
talking to me,
preserving me.
Reminds me of the labor
of tomato picking,
boiling water
to remove skin,
the squeeze to remove seeds,
sanitizing lids and jars,
sweating over the stove,
burning fingers,
packing the tomatoes tight.
Testing, tapping to assure the seal-
Being the bacteria slayer.
Unpacking rubies
To the mudroom shelves….
Unpacking my life,
to assemble,
store,
once more.
Killing bacteria…
Hard stuff.
Sometimes I wonder
of the accuracy of thinking….
It is easy to be fooled
by illegitimate thoughts.
Resolved for this minute,
this second ,
this hour,
to cut, scald, juice, seal,
and hot water bath can.
My day,
their day.
For me
today,
it's the children
and self-preservation.
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