Howdy, friends.
It's been a few months since I've updated this blog, as I've been over on my other page (see here) tracking all of the travel-related adventures (and misadventures...). I've recently landed in Austin, Texas, where I find myself blinking in the sunshine and oddly comforted by the close hug of the heated air (up to 103 degrees the first day I was here). My Yankee blood is feeling fatigued by the heat and learning the deeper meaning of a mid-morning and mid-afternoon siesta, but I am soaking up the warmth like a beetle in the sun.
Or maybe like a kitten in the pool of the sunlight on the tile kitchen floor. I'd rather be a kitten than a beetle, upon second thought.
Regardless. Some writing and much musing has been happening these last few months, but the majority of it has been the kind for my eyes only. (Sorry dudes). Now that my feet are staying in the same general vicinity for a few months, I'm happy to be back on my writing routine and to start spinning out more poetry to chew on and edit and scratch out and wonder if anyone else reads it and so forth. Is it strange that I really do truly enjoy this process?
This one I found on my phone while cleaning notes out waiting for my flight to Texas a few days ago. It's from April 10....I remember all of the context. It's nice that now, in June, I feel much less weary, but I still dwell on the comforting feeling of knowing that there are people out there who love me, no matter the distance. This is dedicated to all of you.
From April 10, 2015
It's this quiet knowing
That you exist
Hemispheres and time zones evaporate
I can sleep
Body's willing but minds ablaze
Never seems to tire these days
Wishing I could follow you to work and home
But my Tuesday's ending in a cold kitchen alone
Cut up the onions
Set the water on
The kettle's my company
The popping corn replaces
Our chatter
My ginger candle
Steadily flickering
It's this quiet knowing
That you exist
Hemispheres and time zones
No matterYour voice on my phone
Even just the message
Before the tone.
-lab
