Rocky Roads

I feel like I’m doing a lot of waiting,
of pauses—minutes and seconds and hours,
waiting for them to pass
and they do
tick by fast, fluttering sets of tens and twenties.
Days pass while I watch with heavy lids
wishing they would stop,
but hoping that they don’t.
Ending with sacks of images that somehow make sense when I add them up,
like trying to explain two plus two to someone who doesn’t know what a number is
what a thing is
what all this time is.
And sometimes it clicks and I get video,
and sometimes it doesn’t
and everything is buffering,



Low Hanging

The cold water nipped at ankles
and sloppily rolled pants,
feet imprinted with socks
and shoe tongues,
and bitten by blister’s raw kiss
on heels and tiny toes,
icy water’s healing touch
and sky a hazy grey
above mossy treed mountains.
Low hanging clouds wrap their loving bodies over and around the mountains width,
clean, cool water reflects the mountains every edge and smooth cloudy veil
painting a portrait in honor of the giant.



Long Lengths

Sore aching bones
from thousands of steps
muscles pulled out and pushed backed
stretched for miles
cramped for hours
kicking in light fluttering sleep
rest holds no rest for dog tired muscles.




I hear everything.

Wheels turning on cars,
hands running through stray hairs and being stuffed into pockets
sheer fabric rubbing together just barely as feet stride one past another.

Wind hitting the trees,
feet hitting the ground,
fingers hitting buttons,
teeth hitting food,
words hitting words hitting words hitting words.

And then—

And then I have a ringing in my ears.

So loud it’s on mute,

Everything comes across a muffled hum
like my brain is working over drive
maybe too hard to understand the sounds.

Like, the best sneak tactic for sensory overload.

Like, it knows everything is too much.

Sound is gone – balance the bright flashing lights of life.
And for a moment,
I can process everything happening,
I can see all around me for miles with no distractions.

But then the sound turns back on,
back to full volume,
and instead of feeling like an addition it feels like something is missing.

Like the mute was more white noise than actual soundlessness
and I’m plummeted back into the real world
where every single sound pounds on the back of my skull.