April 19th poem

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Creation Myth 

After every trip the world is new
or my life and I forget basic things--
one year I forgot which floor my office
was on.  I have no office anymore
just a home, but is this where I live? 

C opens the windows every time I leave, 
even for the afternoon. He begins cleaning,
leaving the floors spick and span, all the
clutter set in different places. What I meant 

to say was that on the way home from the 
airport we argued and I got out of the car
(my son asleep in the back) and walked. We 
were in town by then and everything seemed
new, the teenagers leaving school with their 
trombone cases and running shoes the trees 
leaning in, dark and full from rain.  It was
an hour and a half until dusk but cloudy 
barely warm full spring the earth s
beautiful then I felt bare and new and almost 
washed clean. Baptized in my love of the world.

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