Waking up this way, after a short period of time is the worst. I can feel my body on alert, and I struggle to find a FRAME of reference that will help me invite SLEEP back in. The noise from the Piazza doesn’t help, and I try not to fret about when QUIET will finally descend. I try not to WIDEN my ranging thoughts — to not imagine the varied social interactions below. Alas, my efforts are thwarted by the voices of flirtation. They float into the window, and a roar follows, as if the hunt is on. I shut my eyes and am immediately flooded with scenes of the chase– a VIXEN being run to ground by a pack of snuffling hounds. I try to work with what my mind has GIVEN me, deepening my breath, focusing on the details of green fields and blue skies. My mind twists about and I see the fox trick the hounds. Clever beast, running into safety… My mind releases, my body heavy, sweet rest ensues.

Georg’ann

Little feet play CHASE with waves, skipping
squeals of delight ERUPT
as cold foam washes over their tiny toes.

The sea is moving in all directions, riptides.
No steady rhythm or line as it comes forward,
then retreats into itself, pulling and pushing.

Playful water that rolls across the sand tickling toes,
is the same water crashing against the cliffs enclosing the cove.

Above the spray a lone fisherman stands
with perched sea birds, braced against the wind.
Pole bends in a long arc, releases, the line comes up empty.

Craggy rock man, WIELD your pole cautiously.
Today nothing will be GIVEN easily.

Heather