At 5:36 when I am still awake

I imagine I’m looking down on us from this ceiling

Her small frame wrapped up in mine, cat curled by my shins

Our bodies trading warmth and comfort

And our bed begins to float gently

In a sea of uncertainty

Sometimes Superwoman
Comes unexpectedly, dressed in black
With a red sparkling emblem across her chest

She comes when you least expect it at the end of a big night when you’re cleaning up and pretending that you got it all together,
But you really don’t

And she looks at you in your eyes and tells you – God’s got this
And calls you sister.
And though you don’t quite know what that powerful sistah-ness means (well you kind of do – you’ve glimpsed it) you recognize it for what it is – you see its struggle in proximity to history –
To days –
but you don’t deserve to claim it as your own

Then eyes embrace,
Dark and sparkling
Struggles subsiding like the slow melt of glittering sunsets at dusk

And you percieve that her emblem lies far deeper than the symbol on her chest

#1 Spring Walking

Whoa, did you see that
vaporous veiled paragon?
Spring has awakened!

#2 Scientific Fact

The human eye can
distinguish more shades in green
than other colors

http://pxhere.com/en/photo/457623

I’m in poetry prompt withdrawal now that April has passed. Thankfully I stumbled upon this one from the site iwriteher.com.

Instead of poems on my phone
these days I list daily
expenses: gas, groceries, electric,
so much more tidy than counting
syllables and tracking
my daily emotional balance.

Remember when oyster
mushrooms were a staple
on the grocery budget?
Then after that it was shiitakes.
We cooked them almost
weekly, their sinewy stems like meat.

They look
familiar and fresh
in their shiny packages today
under the produce department lights,
and the kale glistening
in the shopping mist. I toss
them in the cart and wheel on
calculating them into the budget.

Our words,
like grocery lists and budgets,
are functional these days –
communication kept to the basics.
“What are you cooking?”
“Kale and mushrooms”
“Which store did you find the shiitakes at? They remind me of the ones we used to find with stems.”
“Did you finish all the veggies?”
“I didn’t know you wanted any more.”
“It’s ok, it’s fine.”

But, on the stove I find
more mushrooms in the bowl.
All that remains of the kale are the
tiny crispy pieces.
I eat them from the pan – the tastiest of tidbits
and I ponder what it means to
seek out and savor
the seemingly insignificant bits that remain
in an empty cast iron pan.

sun wants to come out
peridot leaves releasing
spring’s cold rain and grey

A PoetRy I L
S P A C E S
in(words to fill)between
(SmIl e) n c e

Oh, thank you Glo/NaPoWriMo for this month and the opportunity to share words to fill the spaces in between! Thank you for edifying comments and solidarity from fellow participants who shared in this journey. I leave April with a smile and a tear – and a grateful heart!

Tattered heart
Grey sweatshirt
Not my vibrant self
Push past
Ignore
The clutter on the shelf
Playlist
Women voices
Beckon me to go
Gravel grinding
Underfoot
Reaching with each toe
Avoid
Noisy traffic
Focus on the sky
Footsteps
In rhythm
Ground and edify
Seek out
Quiet corner
Familiar fallen tree
Breathe out
Closed eyes
Rediscover me