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Twenty Seventeen

My friend Dorothy Montoya used to say
she could look at the state of my house
and know the state of my mind.
I reckon she was right ’cause she
had a knack for reading my moods.

It’s Thursday, January 5th, 3:40 p.m.
The Anniversary Clock is ticking softly
in my mother’s favorite curio cabinet, and
I’m sitting here mute, looking at the state
of dishevelment in my humble hovel
wondering why I’m not hard at work
getting things back to normal after the holidays.

I seem unable…

My thoughts and feelings about my life,
and where I thought I’d be by now
are all over the creased and wrinkled,
folded and refolded
map of my mind and emotions.

What I thought I wanted, I don’t.
What I thought I didn’t want, I do.
The old landmarks that helped me
get my barrings in my life have
suddenly gone askew like an
old neighborhood after a tornado
has raped and pillaged the town.
Nothing looks the same anymore.
And that’s how I feel as
I’ve started off this new year.

Though the winds have died down
and it’s no longer raining,
the sky is still a dark charcoal gray.
Odds and ends and pieces of roofing
are fluttering to the ground around me.
(Or is that wrapping paper and tinsel?)
I stand on the porch of my mind
undone by the devastation and wonder
how in the hell I’m going to maneuver
my way through this new year of my life.

In the back of my memory I hear Plato say,
“Just breathe. The world won’t fall apart
if your house is not sorted out.”
I know he’s right, but there are so many things
I’m apt to trip over in the dark.
And while I sit here
not knowing where to start,
with no energy to begin,
the clock ticks…



(Just a note… There is NOTHING major going on with me, in case you are wondering. This year is our big trip to the British Isles, and I’m having some kind of major issues with my Type 2 diabetes and one other thing that may make it difficult to go on the trip. Working hard to get things in order, but thus “the clock ticks.” Sometimes I just get discouraged and drag all my paper hats and noise makers out of the Party Closet. I was in there rummaging around today in case you can’t tell! My anxiety came out in a poem…. o_O )