I am north, with the northern lights and snow,
melting into newborn nephew snuggles
at how the smell of baby heals heart cracks
I am on a couch, or in a home, or curled
into a blanket or a conversation or the chance
to sleep in late
I am answering questions from a four year old beauty,
and asking my own too. Sleepover tomorrow;
I am ignoring my phone, and my email,
and listening instead to the hum of my life;
checking the silence with my finger on my lips.
I am examining steps, the what's nexts
I am finishing books and polishing ideas,
dreaming of characters
and thickening plots and wondering if
the books I hope to finish will be as good
or as worth it
as the books I just put down.
I am day dreaming, and dreaming of a life
where my days and my day dreaming
cease to be exclusive of the other.
Who is making these two an enemy?
Only I, the dreamer, the night listener, the
I think I'll pause
to examine tiny fingers and admire the chance
they still have to grow up
and change the current.