Today I realized how much I miss writing poetry. And so I wrote a poem!
In Portsmouth, New Hampshire
the seals in the harbor spoke to me
of time passing, of urgency
and history. I watched them
like a mother watching her
kids play. They brought me
small treasures of wondering:
that the most wild of all succulent women
was from New England-
We can dwell in Possibility
With a capital P,
If you imagine ordering a cup of Joy
at a coffee shop you can sit
at a table five minutes later
with a palm-burning mug in hand.
When you take a sip,
you can feel that big ocean love
coming in through the light
in the front window
and dream of seals communicating
with a woman standing at the end of the dock.
They bark to her of murky winter skies,
salt on their lips, and the myth
of gods teaching elephants to break lose
from leashes made of jungle reeds.