here

I reach out trembling fingertips to feel my every movement through the abandoned house. Any fragment of illumination has been absent for months. It is night. The sky holds a new moon; not even a shadow is cast here.

There is a window open, maybe two. It lets in a slight breeze that feels strangely calming as it passes across my body. I breathe it in as if I am consuming the spirit of lost friend. The tiny hairs on my forearms raise up, standing like green soldiers awaiting inspection. A musty presence of the empty dwelling becomes apparent as a quiet, comfortable smell comes to my welcoming senses and passes into this soul, hesitantly exhaled as if letting go of the only forgiving life force it has known.

There lies no understanding in just how I got here, or how I became upon this moment. But it is good. I recognize a distant familiarity within these walls, but I cannot place it. I belong here somehow. Now.

I take another breath.

being green

Earth Day is April 22. In an effort to be a better earth person, I have tried to come up with some ideas of how I'll use less. Or be more earth-friendly. Or whatever the hell you want to call it.

attempt to be more green

line dry at least ½ of laundry
ride bike to work (more often)
shower at night (no hairdryer in morning)
download albums instead of buying CDs
use library instead of buying books
unplug appliances when not in use
bring lunch to work instead of going out to eat
continue to buy from Goodwill instead of buying new
sew market bags for friends & family (instead of plastic bags)
use towels more than once before bleaching/washing
use rechargeable stuff rather than batteries
collect rainwater to water plants

The towel thing is going to be difficult.

she

she

upon dreary and lonely eve
she comes as a swan calls
broken, she wears her dress
and silently she falls.
she keeps the all in
indulging in every fear
she knows only anger
emptiness lives here.
she robs a memory
just to replace hers
give in to the loss
euphoria, your mind blurs.
it shall all clear soon
don’t struggle in her grip
she has you now
away you slip.
no longer may you feel
you surrendered to her pull
now you are empty
she leaves you, for she is full.