Women Who Eat Chocolate

Hello Monday. You of normally hurried minutes that diminish rapidly through a hazy time continuum. Today I met you with problems consisting of regular things, yet clouded mind. Money and things and issues and future happenings stirred in my brain this sunny day. Though the sun met me with warmth and color and flowers that were blooming on my porch. Ordinary days filled with troubles that aren't really troubles. Ways to meet obligations and fulfill them drift through me, pressing, gently pushing. This morning, yet again, I've given it over to the one who knows me, and embraces me still though I've wandered far. Always wandering and wanting something more and different than the light of a regular Monday morning. Today I work, gather groceries, and scribble poetry in a simple notebook in the dappled light of my porch. My haven and the place where my thoughts come together. A place where the book coming through my heart to my fingers finds purchase, and spills out ont...

I know you, America. I see you in the tiny back roads where wildflowers bloom and droop with the dust that covers them. Where I wander and watch verdant woods filled with green inch past my window. I feel you in the breezes that fall across my face, as I am free to travel your craggy terrain and find new places you have hidden from me. This, in your  excitement for me to explore you. You are on my front porch where I am free to seek refuge and form prose that falls from my fingertips like  blood, cut from jagged edges. Where I find the hard  words more defiantly than anywhere else. I know you, America.  You are not 'Merica. You are more than patriotic vitriol spoken with careless abandon, without connecting brain or tongue. Words wrapped in a flag and handed to you at birth to blindly worship and tread softly around. You are more than a flag, fibers and pigments colored to make red-hued stripes and white stars, signifying a...