100 Days of Poetry: Days 81-85

(Note: There are five poems from this time period, but one was not written for public consumption.)

Our Lady of Sorrows

Notre Dame
Easter Week fire
Rose window, gargoyles
Nine hundred years of history
In flames

Dirt

Scouring dirty quartz
Dishes, crumbs, unsightly mess
Wipe them all away
I wish that somehow
Windex and white cleaning cloths
Could clean life messes
Possible, perhaps
To find a gleaming surface
Somewhere underneath
But tomorrow comes
Grime returns, dishes pile up
Sigh, wipe, repeat

Therapy Aftermath

There is something profoundly soothing
Or maybe terrifying
About having a complete stranger understand
Even articulate
Feelings buried too deeply for me to frame in words
Tears left me unable to speak
Not a bid for sympathy this time
Just wounds exposed
Speaking my truth
Letting it hang in the air
Perhaps not shared
But at least heard
Am I hopeful?
I don't know
Sad?                                                                                              
It feels like sadness
But I expect time will reveal something else
Right now, I want to curl around the hole in my gut
Close my eyes
And simply exist
Unmoving
In silence

Peaks after Valleys

What a difference a day makes
Awkward discussions bring corrected vision
Putting names to feelings
Letting go of the need for agreement
Releasing the burden of assumption
More tears ahead, I am certain
But today I wake at peace
Light
Reveling in reprieve