Poetry

This is an intimate business

I'm talking  You're listening

I try to listen

but it's easier talking

Relaxation

  

Relaxation is a cumulative thing

Each day, I drop lower toward the ground

Growing wider, more dense, slower

And, smoother –

A slow-motion lava flow

Of enjoyment and appreciation

Held in the middle of a mound of dough

Rising above and spilling over

Any kind of established container

There’s a breeze here and sunlight

The world is turning

But, because I’m turning at the same speed

I can’t feel it.