Where Is My Angry Field

travel light

that’s my advice to this present self

I can’t heft loads

so well as I might have

once before

yet still on the move

wanting to see or do or know

probably shaky on courage

feigning an adventurer’s gait

travelling light—

it’s not I’ve become obviously weak

or afflicted (to my knowledge anyway)

what is useful versus what might be

shedding feels natural

what must be dragged must also be abandoned

I might be shallow

depth buried too deep for the purple locator

adept at lightning dodgeball

not so much lost

not identifiable as numb

person in waiting

avoidance skilled

ugly horror sidestepped

no action participant

frown frozen militant

near sighted visionary

preferential blurring in sunrise frame

I read poetry rarely

except for the not yet available in translation

I hear the imagery

I see the screams

I watch the vengeance fireworks

I sketch the destruction

I spin the globe from 1970

plan my escape ticket

check my light for longevity

braid my hair

wish for nothing and no one

breath in 4

practice laughter back in my overgrown garden

slip on my boots and go🪶

Siteseeing

on the other side of the world a privileged woman trek stumbles between one village and another/ she feels the autumn wind while climbing steep hills to view a wild and shimmering ever shifting sea/ dodging crowds she repeats mantras to hold onto sanity and kindness/ it’s open season on ancient wonders and civility/ so many photo ops and each one a smiling special feature subverts the object of the frame/ I am a tourist and why is it tourists must exemplify the obtrusive (and loud and lame)/ rainy days bring quiet albeit temporary reprieve/ big maple leaf on damp crosswalk stones reminds me of home/ it doesn’t mean I’m yet ready (unwilling) or driven (out) to go🪶