Poems & Essays

 

Bending

I’m waiting for my insides
to stop smoldering.  So I left my
ringing phone and today’s 57 new
emails for the Redondo Beach pier.
I’ve worked nearby for years and
never stopped by for a break.
Today I sit under a tree,
Waves roll and break,
people ride bikes on the path,
kids shout,
leash tags on dogs jingle,
a bus exhales,
a guy rolls by on his Segway.
Months ago, leaning forward with a crisp
linen napkin in my lap a friend warned
You never get this day back.  Ever.
A mosaic of bark protects this tree.
Its boughs pinned with thick green leaves
pointing away from the shore;
they bend.
No one at work was waiting who
couldn’t wait just a little longer.
These limbs yield to this
breeze and today so do I.

 

OTHER PUBLICATIONS AVAILABLE ONLINE

Barber” |  poem  |  the museum of americana

Omiyage”  |  personal essay  |  Kauai Backstory

My personal essays reposted at BlogHer

 

 

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