So many excuses get in my way,

Work demands are unpredictable,

And this dizziness makes me afraid.

Top it off with a heaping dose of

Depression and self-loathing,

A frightful combination ensues.

But I know it needs to change,

I need to get into me too.

Not to go back to that twenty-year old physique,

But to find my way to, gulp, fifty,

And be fit for our upcoming spring retreat.

Hawaii is on the horizon,

a once in a lifetime escape,

And I want to wear a skimpy sarong

Wrapped around my nape.

Now it’s time for me to return to getting out,

Fighting the snooze and overcoming my pout.

Put that foot out, step by step,

And know I do it for me, and no one else.

It was easy when I did it for you,

I really don’t know why.

But this time it can’t be, so I sigh.

He doesn’t care, round is a shape,

But he’ll get the benefits when I have a smaller waist.

That will be okay, as long as I keep it up;

As long I remind myself, this is for me.

Loneliness, she walked away from it.

Or so she thought. But loneliness followed.

Distractions, work, hobbies, and more.

But loneliness continued to knock on her door.

She turned off the lights and slipped away,

While loneliness continued to rattle away.

Perhaps the morning light would chase it away.

Instead it hid in the corners, waiting to visit again.

Perhaps companionship would keep it at bay.

If only she could find a man who would stay.

Her heart was good, she’d never physically stray,

Finally one would not abandon her when life got hard.

For years, it was enough, except for in the deepest corners of heart.

But even then, that hole remained.

Perhaps it will follow her through all her days.

She stepped in from the chilly outside. In the air hung the smell of old wood. Light from a fluorescent bulb flickered above as it warmed up. She looked around his wood-shop. She found it oddly comforting as it made her feel his presence even with him days away. She ran her fingers across his latest creation of wood and resin.

His space was his studio, but together they would seek out the sources. She looked over a large driftwood piece on the wall. They had found it together. He carved it to the perfect piece for his space. A photo of that piece hung in her space, taken before they harvested it.

A stack of driftwood rested in one corner. Another corner had planks of oak, maple, and pine ready for the next project. Some smaller finished pieces sat drying on the work table.

She touched the router as she finished her loop through the workshop. It was one of her contributions to his tools which she had inherited from her father. She was thrilled to give it to him when they reconnected. Finally it might get put back into use.

She gave a nod to her Dad in her mind and then another glance to make sure all was in its place. She heard the whirr of an engine outside and turned to the door. A smile came across her face when she saw that familiar car pulling up the drive. Finally, he was home.

The crow of the cock echoed through the open bedroom window. Sunlight streamed in, casting warmth on bare arms resting over the covers. Her eyes fluttered open to see cotton candy pink clouds in the dawn. The gentle slopes of the mountains framed the sky.

In these early hours she enjoyed being where her ancestors lived. For several generations, they explored these mountains, farming the land, and digging into the ground, unearthing treasure from below.

However, later this day would bring throngs of family. She enjoyed time with some of her cousins, but massive family gatherings were too people-y for her tastes.

For now, the smells of breakfast floated through the air. Freshly baked biscuits, scrambled eggs, potatoes, and pork chops made her mouth water. She especially loved her grandmother’s biscuits with butter and strawberries on top.

She slipped out of bed and straightened her hair, then wandered out into to hall to wish everyone good morning.

---

Inspired by visits to my grandparents home as a child.

The skies darkened, heavy with clouds.

Winds picked up; trees swayed and bent.

Lightning flashed, filling the room, and

A thunderous clap shook the windows.

She shot up, her peaceful slumber broken.

He ran his hand along her shivering arm,

Trying to calm his bride as the storm raged.

She took a deep breath and sighed,

Then found her way to the crook of his arm.

He pulled her close and kissed her gently.

Skin on skin, fully trusting, never questioning,

they fell back to sleep while the storm raged on.

She found herself in a frenzy once more,

Knowing mother would soon call.

She didn’t know why she was this way,

But feared the sting of her biting tongue.

Cleaning was a must, along with a change,

Fresh sheets were in order, drying under way.

But her frenzy led her down a path,

One she barely recovered from.

The world spun as the comforter pile neared,

Catching her from a vertigo spiral.

She lay there a moment, covered in sweat.

Finally she stood back up, sopping wet.

She stumbled back to the room,

Oh no, she missed the bed skirt,

Covered in telltale traces of kitty fur.

At least she could sit to finish this task.

Finally the room was ready,

So off to the sofa she went to collapse.

Giving in to the rocking feeling in her head.