June 17, 2021 (part 2)

i held a honey bee,
let it crawl up and down my bare hand
lifted my fingers to see it bumble around

it flew off awkwardly
dropped to the ground
where i rescued it
and let it crawl on me once more
before flying off toward its hive

and i tasted honey straight from the comb
the floral notes gently caressing my taste buds
and i learned so much about bees and honey
i shared scads of fun facts with friends
and i wonder to myself
“could this be a new hobby?”

[probably not, but it’s nice to let the imagination run away sometimes]

June 17, 2021

i keep forgetting to write my actual
travel
poetry
until this next morning
(so i’m scurrying to write my daily poetry
about how i’m feeling this morning,
first thoughts,
first impressions of the day,
and afterwards i try to reach back
to yesterday
and how that travel/day/adventure felt.
and of course,
posting it
from today
into yesterday
because i am nothing
if not
consistently
procrastinatory)

June 16, 2021 (part 2)

when one is not plagued
by friendship degradation mechanics
a special vacation
to see old friends
can nearly immediately
feel abnormally normal
to the point where
you kind of forget
where you are
or how old you are
(or everything else that has happened these last few years
when folks ask how your life has been…)

~~~

driving
still equals freedom
but the freedom
explored
in the united states of america
isn’t really that free
(when was it ever?)

~~~

how are toddlers
both
straight up babies
and tiny real humans
at the same time?

June 16, 2021

i went into a Barnes and Noble yesterday
and, as a friend stated,
it was unnaturally normal.

the stacks were all stacked,
sales, clean shelves, bright lights,
like they had just shut down regularly one night
and opened the next day with everyone wearing masks.

and i bought too many books
(potentially to make up for my spouse not being there;
our usual date night: book shopping)
and we still had our membership active
(as if the last year and a half on pause hadn’t even happened)

June 15, 2021 (part 2)

the normalcy
is throwing me
eating under an umbrella at a bar/grill,
pushing strollers through outdoor malls,
playing on communal playgrounds…

don’t misunderstand me,
i am fully vaccinated,
and i am aware of how the virus spreads
and the evidence of safety in small outdoor gatherings,
and i am beyond grateful for how things have worked out
and that i finally get to hug my friends tight
(touch being my romantic and platonic love language)

but i’ve lived a year and a half in unknowns
(we all have)
of trying to be as careful as possible and then some
knowing not everyone “believes” in this clearly observable fact,
this virus killing thousands (and leaving more with irreversible repercussions)
so i am used to being overly cautious
and this exploration into ‘normal’

…i am absolutely waiting for the other shoe to drop.

June 15, 2021

figuring out our foundations;
both of us grew up
just outside of a suburban border
(not quite country)
and staying in green
with bugs
and wildlife
and stars and sky
feels so good

but also,
after a year and a half in The City
(The City that Never Sleeps, The Big Apple, The Greatest City in the World)
we can’t imagine living anywhere else.
we would miss the convenience of walking to get everywhere,
an actually useful public transportation system,
the resilience of all the people,
observing those completely unlike you
(and seeing dozens of people exactly like you,
no matter how unique you think you are)

(how quickly New York steals your heart)

June 14, 2021 (part 2)

made a friend with a cicada
helped it get back on its feet
it became so excited it crawled up my arm
and stared at me while i worked on a digital zine.

made a friend with a cat
(not the cat our host expected to be needy and affectionate)
and she decided my lap was not where the laptop should go,
the lap was where she should be for the rest of the afternoon.

made a friend with another cicada
as it flew full force at my head
and landed on my bright orange hood
and refused to leave until my spouse gently pulled it off

tried to make friends with every lizard who crossed my path
but they clearly had important places to be
so i tried to let them go on their way
(but still i watched them with glaring curiosity)

June 14, 2021

even more tired
this morning
than yesterday.

when’s the last time we stayed up
till past 2am?
i literally cannot remember.

we are the early-risers,
the morning people,
the dawn folk,

and yet

i come from the theater,
my job, my career, all my peers
are night owls

and as long as there are wide spaces between,
or at least an opportunity to nap
the following day,

it’s invigorating to feed off their energy
(and their Old Bay fries.)

June 13, 2021 (part 2)

our dog
is a beach dog
but not an ocean dog

although

she treats the sand like snow,
rolling around in it,
licking it up and eating it,
rolling around some more in order to get out of her eyes that sand from the first roll

and even though we had to pull her away from that joy,
and even though we had to rinse out her eyes so they would stop swelling,
it was worth it to see her jump around like a puppy
(and to see folks’ faces erupt in surprise when we tell them
“this dog is thirteen years old [today]!”)

~~~

i didn’t realize
love languages show up
so early

but damn if that
less-than-two-year-old
didn’t hand off his juice,
and blanket,
and bag of apples
the minute he decided
he liked us.

~~~

arriving home
far too late
making eye contact
with a young buck
as he munches on leaves,
hardly concerned we’re twenty feet away
(as my dog remains frozen with the decision
of whether to chase this creature
as friend or prey)