finish up these pages
so the bagel can be eaten
so the laundry can be started
so the nap can be taken
so the cat meds can be obtained
so the lyra can be flown on
so the massage can be gotten
and so i can come back home
and be lonely
but not alone
[because these sweet animals
are my greatest buddies
besides my spouse]
the world turns
rotates
and expected bright and dark
bright and dark
bright and dark
interrupts
the brightness of the dark
blocking out the daytime
for a moment
for a few minutes
the birds quiet
the spouse pauses work
and we look through two pairs of sunglasses
as the family group chat in cleveland
explodes
with iphone photos
and pictures of dslr cameras
alike
showing totality
showing what i could have seen
if i’d traveled for the experience
[still not quite as cool as a few years ago
when i observed even less totality
while flying on my moon-shaped lyra
outside and sunglassed and free]
i first touched a lyra
(in order to play inside)
in 2010
and for six years
i didn’t touch one again
but from January 2016
to March 2020
i never stayed away more than three weeks
it’s been 6 and a half months
it’s been 6 months
two weeks
three days
since i last touched a lyra
(since i last touched any circus apparatus)
(since i last knew what it was like to fly)
and i am not expecting a lot
from tomorrow
i know my muscles have weakened
my flexibility has lessened
my (un)calloused hands can’t hold myself up
nearly as long as
once they did
i am not expecting much
because the world is still uncertain
and a virus is still ‘at loose’
and i know anything, absolutely anything
could happen
but i hope i get to remember what it felt like to fly
to be truly free
truly in the moment
(to enjoy being alive)
and i hope
for one hour
i can fully experience that all
again
and maybe plan for
a next time.
kipventures 