ALIVE, yes, but that’s a low bar. I would like to be more than just that, but these days I feel like I have to keep pushing away despair and loneliness. Like being handed a STICK when I am longing for flowers. I try not to SKIMP, to deny myself. But getting up every morning and making a series of decisions about the day, well, it just feels hard. Wrestling with the urge to escape, imagining a little SKIFF where I could row away, maybe with you, maybe with a small band of companions. A gently flowing stream, a wide calm lake — little glimmers of life and hope in the far distant impossible to imagine future.

Georg’ann

Walking on the tracks,
bellies full of coconut cream pie.
Autumn sky crisp and CLEAR.
We were goofy teens, thinking
we were so punk
with our spiked green hair,
ripped hose and big boots,
safety pins in our ears.
Jumping into empty train cars
listening to the echos
SHOUT after shout. Laughing
free, oh so free.
A SNIFF of the air foretells
a light SKIFF of snow coming.
When we get home,
my aunt’s fury there to greet.
Sheepishly we admit to eating
all the coconut cream pie.

Heather