Residue
Oscar barked
and barked and barked
so that at 2:22am
I was up cursing as I
let him outside
The night was sliced
I curled up bed waiting
for him to summon me again
he did I let him in then
knelt before him
his mid-night servant
cleaning his paws
dirty with the sandy
stardust in the yard
Back in bed slightly delirious
grit between my toes
chill on my shoulders
my dreams nestled into worries
Now the residue of 2:22
is caught under my fingernails
I’ll spend the day
washing my hands
scraping away the
panic of too much to do
It’s March! And didn’t March just march right in over the weekend? The sun was shining. The air was mild. We got out the bikes, pumped up the tires, played catch, played badminton. We opened windows and turned off the heat. Oh, March, you’re here! Oh, Spring, won’t you stay?
I will admit that the shift in the weather, the melting of the dirty snow, the sound of the singing birds got under my skin and lifted me up. Except, as my poem suggests, something happened in the middle of the night that hooked on a weight of worry.
March is an important month. This month I do major prep for my book launch and finalize my book tour. The reality of sharing my new poetry collection with family and friends is getting more and more real. I feel nervous and excited. And, my body wants to take this on as worry and pressure. So, I have to pay strict attention to the pattern that says ‘it’s all too much!’ and turn the worry into joy and gratitude as I do one thing at a time and make the process passionate.
So here’s to a new month. Here’s to a sunny day. Here’s to shifting old patterns into practices of gratitude and the patient doing of one thing at a time.
VANESSA SHIELDS, writer 