fruit we deny ourselves

How
did I ever
live for years
without tasting
a single
berry?

What
was I
punishing
myself
for?

if you still loved me sometimes

what I
would like
to know 

sometimes
is if
you
still loved me
sometimes
even when
you hated
me

He asks is this fun

We are on the train
because he wanted to ride.
He asks, "Is this fun?"

will spring come to my tree this year

lonely sound 

of bare tree

branches

in constant

restless 

motion

whacking

each other

like children

left in the back 

seat too long

when it is enough (exercise and chronic pain)

Ask yourself,

"Is is enough?"

and if you think

"I could do more,"

stop before 

it is too much.

Wondering how much sleep will be enough

How many nights of better sleep will be 

enough to make up for eleven years of 

not enough?  How many nights will my 

brain take to reset and my body to heal 

and finally 

feel rested?

Birthday questions between book chapters

Why, do you suppose, is it so hard for me to

rest--to focus only on ignoring my own 

entropy--when it is so recharging to my 

soul? Is this constant excuse of attending 

to the entropy around me instead, especially 

when I need rest so desperately, another 

series of the small acts of self-sabotage I 

am so good at not noticing myself doing 

until I write about them?

the difference between

I have been thinking about 

the difference between

thinking you are the puzzle

and 

thinking you are a piece, 

thinking you are the tapestry

and 

thinking you are a thread, 

thinking you are the body

and 

thinking you are a member of it.

revenge of the dragonflies

I longed
for more
dragonflies,
but when I
sprawled on
the deck, they
tickled me
to distraction.
We studied
each other.
I wondered why
I love them so
much more than
other insects
with equally ugly
or even more
beautiful faces.
Jewel colors?
Sporty wings?
Pest-hunting
prowess? Inability
to do me any
real harm?

nostalgia or eyeball floaters

was the sky

a clearer blue

when I was 

young, or could 

it just be that 

there are 

more floaters

in my eyes now

that I am older

?

TAI - > TAD

What is it about just knowing

that Tiny Adorable Illegal Dog

is not, in fact, actually illegal,

that makes me want to cuddle

and pet it even more despite 

the fact that legality 

has nothing to do

with allergies

?

that night (and early morning)

I wonder if I am better 

at being present 

here and now or if I 

am just finally as good 

as I used to be when 

I was a child.

these small acts of self-sabotage

Why is it that I seem to be most compelled

to write when I am in more pain and know

that writing will make the pain worse?  I am

so ornery sometimes.  Are these small acts

of self-sabotage or attempts at redemption?

Jeremiah 38-39

This is what
I do not understand
about us: why,

when both paths
are laid out
so clearly,

do we still choose
the wrong path
again?

folk wisdom fail

Starve a fever.  Don't exercise
with a fever.  This is what they
say.  But what if you don't know
if the fever is a side effect of the
steroid or related to the cold/flu
you're coming down with now
that you can't get any sleep at all?

Why?

Because today is
forty-six seconds shorter
than yesterday was.

how should I pray

Now that

• you are freed from this burden you never asked for,
• you are bereft of the doomed life within you,
• I can't pray for a miracle anymore,

how should I pray for you?

like origami

My first chiropractor folds me
like origami, and my joints are
not his biggest fans.  He promised
not to turn me into a puddle, and he
is true to his word thus far, but
he says there should never be more
than mild discomfort, and this is a problem
because it's rare for there to be less
than mild discomfort at all times
even when he is not creasing me
into a crane.  Can the crane say to the folder,
"Why did you make me this way?"  Here's
hoping I don't need a thousand visits
to get my wish to come true.  I can't possibly
afford that. 

Tree vampire

The trees were seeping from their severed limbs yesterday.  I noticed a puddle on the sidewalk, but everywhere else around was dry, and then I realized the tree above me had been trimmed around power lines.  It's been years since I've seen this happen.  This time, I gave in and put my hand under the stream and then tasted it. 

It wasn't sweet sap.  At first I thought it tasted like nothing, just pure water.  Then I realized that the salt I would normally taste on my skin was totally neutralized.

Today, I saw from the window that the trees were still weeping.  I didn't go out to check if maybe it tasted different today.  It's something I can only do on impulse, apparently, and not deliberately.

Maybe it's spring cleaning for the trees: out with the old water so the new can start circulating.  Or maybe it's more like a tourniquet being removed?

What makes them start and what makes them stop before they bleed out?  I'm sure science has the answer for these questions, but I'd rather just wonder.

Fortune Cookie, what are you trying to say?

"Good things come
in invisible packages.
You will be delighted."

What does this mean?  And does it sound slightly sinister to anyone else?