The Doorstep
The doorstep never so sweet as when I’m walking past it
The light never so subtle
Old annoyances, rusty sponges, windows don’t quite close
Charming. Elegant, comfortable.
All that I want is to lie in bed
Curled against the heat
my steady breathing animal
See the sadness in his eyes.
Does he feel my crusty, acid-like resistance?
Venerable disgust
for what I’m about to do
To rip myself away
From a thing so wonderful…
A betrayal even I could likely never forgive.
And then, always,
the morning that I’m set to take the road
All the world will shine brightly
Every dew drop smiling
And the sweetness of the parting
will not quite hurt so bad
As soon as I’m actually out the door
I’m one moment closer
to coming back through it
To leave and leave again
I must also keep returning.
As high as the tree reaches,
so deep they spread their roots.
As much sky each finger touches
So deeply each foot holds.
Shipping
I gather my things, clear out the dust
And wonder what makes a good leaving
If the difference between a tragedy and a hero's journey
Is how the characters feel about it afterwards
What story am I stepping into?
Which way will my essence be pulled?
Late night realizations of essential tools
Make heroes out of two day shipping
Send me back with such expediency
Should I go astray
Photo: "Flowers Before you Go", possibly one we will offer as a print later in this journey! :)
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