Risk (?)
at risk in the monotony of dark-morning caregiving
ache out of bed, watch the dogs pee, shuffle to the sofa
half-sleep snuggle, the light of the rising sun on my face
a passing kiss, fill the water bowls, scoop, scrape dog food
crouch and watch the dogs eat, kettle boil water, ready the
french press, pour coffee grounds in my favourite gray mug
in the oops a break in
the repetition, a magical intuitive disruption
frazzling the new worry roping my mind
is it risky to routine?
is this one of time’s illustrious markers of age?
the ability to feel the anchor chain of adventure flatlining into ordinary?
when choices create contexts that settle into schedule…
why the hoisting red flag pole-poking my tailbone like a
hungry toddler: look at me!
why the slick tightening of fear as I move the coffee grounds
from mug to press…that this again-and-again-ing is dangerous?
THANK YOU!!
Pre-orders for We the Mourners continue to flow in! I’m sooo grateful! I’m this | | close to booking a launch location…and have many interactive ideas slipping out my sleeve – be prepared to participate in the launch! Woot!
VANESSA SHIELDS 