Final installment of the poetry postcards

August 20:

Dear Colleen–

What do we cut–
these arteries of attachment,
this sorrow–
the empty space between
words and breath
provides the path
of navigation–the hollow
anxiety of unknowing–

August 21:

Dear Laura–

the trick is
holding two things at once–
this balance of sadness
and joy, this want and
this acceptance–
how to live in one place–

August 22:

Dear Adrienne–

The familiar numbers,
faint remembrance in the strokes–
so far away, and the question
of where to now?
All of it seeming unreal,
nonsensical, but here we are
breathing together–

August 23:

Dear Patrick–

Tomorrow, this future–
some conjured moment,
some ripe bloom–
I breathe myself solid,
feel my steady grip
on this narrative, this
life I move through,
create–

August 24:

Dear Greg–

The crows have ended
their raucous salute to
morning–we are
bound together in our
routines, the joy of
shouting out our intentions–
I hear myself in their voices,
I sing crow songs–

August 25:

Dear Erin–

A woman dances on the street
corner to her own song, music
shaking through her hips,
her arms thrown skyward–
pigeons perched in a line, napping–
the dance moves closer to me,
and then away–
the morning rising
in Philadelphia–

August 26:

Dear Brittany–

Reflecting back, did the struggle
balance–the question of worth,
the trick of words, how they
extend and reach
into us–shifting definitions,
the assimilation of
what is now–

August 27:

Dear Mary–

These words create
a container for the day,
the expansion and
contraction
of life, the way impermanence
reminds us
what we hold,
how to let go–

August 28:

Dear Mary–

Tonight, I remember
how to smile and give
in–the breeze gentle,
the garden still–
I accept the missing
presence that held my
hope–tonight, I
grieve–

August 29:

Dear RD–

The air is thick again
with waiting–
how our destinies
intertwine, how we long
for something to change–
this, our history, laid
out before us, urging
us forward–

August 30:

Dear Charlie–

Clouds cover and part,
we hover and dive–words
heavy with history and sentiment
lead us to become–
every day we discover–
the potency of sound,
potential of memory,
the hum of not knowing
what comes next–

August 31:

Dear Maggie–

the before and after-images
bleed through the screen
of our knowing–
balloons of light,
darkness enveloping–
friction between us
filling the gaps–

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