Falling
I will wait for you
at the crossroads
between awake
and dreamIn that quiet valley
of softened edges
and drifting
thought stream
—T.C. (2014)
Things I don’t tell you
There is no use crying into your soup
my mother tells me
as she stumbles half awake
into the sleet and rain
of her next shift.
I think I am learning
to understand her better.
I simmer bones to make soup
while my father wanders
into the kitchen, unsure
of where, if there is anywhere,
he belongs. These days
I am more
rendered than strained,
more marrow than root;
I want so much that is not
intended for me.
I want to turn around
and find you there
passing a cigarette
back and forth
as we talk late into the night
about large and small things.
–T.C. (2016)
river, sky light, tree
found me happy
as a wellskipped stone
hop skipping
across, my heart
swells, light rivers me
–T.C. (2016)
origin of something
root: as in rooted
as in held in place.rooting is also a reflex:
i will turn towards you
if you stroke my face.
–T.C. (2016)
Yoshida Hiroshi (Japanese, 1876 - 1950)
“Konoshima”, 1930.
Watercolor on Paper.
(via thissometimepoet)
This is so calming. I might just do one every time I am need of a smile.
Here’s the link if you want to give it a try and make one of your own:
Tagging @aftersalt @ellenya @jayarrarr @woodsong
And into the forest I go to lose my mind and find my soul - John Muir
Why is this so satisfying, though? Thanks for the tag, Maddy @torrentialmonsoon 💗 It made me smile today.
Daybreak. 31° F, feels like 23° F. 5:42 to 6:27 am. March 12, 2023. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT. (@dkct25)