ankle deep

stepping one foot and then

the other
into colder than wanted
water standing on solid rock waiting for the shock to

subside,
almost okay with just going ankle deep,
and also aware of the

possibility for
more
so even if it takes me one minute, or 12,
when I finally submerge my whole being into the river, i let any and all sounds of hollering come out of my mouth into the cold
and for a moment i understand what they were saying last week in meditation class,

chogyam trungpa and that whole idea of gentle
            bravery because now the water is everything i wanted and i don’t see how it could have happened any other way

 

stuffed under

how I feel like i’m at the corner of may

how the leaves on the trees look like unfurling umbrellas,
or

like the wet wings of butterflies just after they leave the cocoon.

heavy.
(with possibility)

how my sense of smell is lost
for several days
stuffed under the couch of a cold
and I exuberantly (and perhaps deliriously) spread (way too much) thieves essential oil blend on the
bottoms of my feet
for the sake of immunity.

more than one or two people at the party ask surprised DO you smell that? what is that? when we walk into a room and i can’t help but
burst out laughing.