43: For Now

March.  Morning Earth is somber and cold, but by afternoon she’s Bikini Mud Wrestling, slutty and reeking of Want.

I am tired of settling, tired of waiting for the Spring Forest that will explode into life when Things Are Calmer.

I want to buy a tiny RV: a bare-bones, bed-only, pull-behind-my-jeep glorified box-on-wheels. I want to set off alone to see my country before it disappears. I want to live invisibly and taste a wild and solitary freedom.  I want to disappear until I am strong in myself, until I am confident.

I want to be *me* again.

for now
there is the scent of yarrow
broken
by my sleepy footsteps
on a warm july morning

4 thoughts on “43: For Now”

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