Pocketful of stones

water

I don’t know about you
but I’m so tired
of being vigilant.

I’ve been watchful,
on the lookout
at school
at work
at home
for decades
{four, at least}
my nervous system
defaults
at red
alert.

Not orange
or amber
but red
like blood
and roses.

This does not strike me
as a good place
to live
a good life.

My mind needs
to move to
Australia
Spain
Shimoda.

My mind needs
to go surfing.

My mind needs
a bonsai tree
a kitten
a pocketful of
small round stones
picked while on vacation.
 

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