Something I Wrote Maybe 5 Years Ago

I’m tossing notebooks today.  I need to.  I have two huge stacks of spirals that have been accumulating for years.  I skim through each one and tear out what seems worthwhile.  Most of it’s morning pages, complaints, comments on how strong or weak the coffee is, the same hopes and frustrations that I have now.  On repeat.

 

I found this “poem,” if that’s what it is.  I don’t think I put much into it.  But it does remind me of my state…sometime in 2010.

 

The coffee was burnt

in a ring around

the bottom of the pot

this morning, left

on all night.

 

I didn’t sleep anyway.

 

There is wet rosemary to pick

this morning

for the evening’s chicken.

 

In the early light

incense curls toward me,

outstretching its hand

in gesture,

and I feel the

ache return.

 

A hawk stretches

his body

against the flat blue sky.

He understands

his action

in this place.

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