circles
I am moving
in small circles
lately.
from the table to
the dishwasher;
from the front door
to the mail box.
I rarely need a shoe
other than my well-worn
slippers.
I am carving new paths
away from my illusions
of control and
invulnerability.
they say these days we are lost
and we are found—but mostly,
we are all of us
alone.
the Distance may be the next door over
or a few miles down the road—
it doesn’t matter.
right now, those well-worn paths
may as well be
100,000 miles of desert road.
I’m so thirsty.
but I stick to my circles,
looking up and around,
out the same kitchen window,
at the same bookshelf,
the same pilling blue couch—
day to day I circle in sameness
watching everything change.
I wrote this poem at the height of the 2020 pandemic. And yet in my days of spinning in circles taking care of twins, these words often come back to me. I hope they meet you as well. This poem is part of a collection of poems I published in February of 2024, click here to learn more and to purchase your copy today.