Creative

Tiny yellow flowers  Perfect little bulbs  Canary feather fairy lights  Strung up like crumpled gold  Yellow as Taylor’s acoustic dress Radiant daffodil poised for surprise Yellow as the messy crayon sun Children draw amidst blue skies  Tiny yellow flowers  Perfect little masts  I’ve been chasing yellow so long  And still can’t make it last

Coming back to myself was Your birthday Sitting at the counter, watching you all in a busy kitchen:  Faye Webster on speaker Pasta bubbling on the stove Cream & strawberry sponge cake in the oven  Frosting-licked fingers & paper people cake toppers  My hands in dishwater    Coming back to myself was  Nothing more than a knowing smile No ceremony, no discernible shift  Just new friends sitting on a new floor, watching Ratatouille together - Me, leaning with my back to the couch  Mug of tea cradled in my hands Thinking: this is right, This is me, again

You decide He says Anxiety rises in my chest like nails Do I have to? I don’t really care I say, or maybe I just don’t know And it seems overwhelming to Assess the options Have the conversations Read the books Reflect on my life And say the prayer   But not making a decision is a decision too And Love will not impose itself on you.