Poor night’s
after an empty
when energy
as it does,
from working
too long.
The ulnar nerve
in my elbow,
injured from overuse,
in pain
from the morning’s
work I was so
happy to do.
Trying to corral
my life into
any workable plan,
freeing it from
any demands
so that I can heal,
a tactic which
leaves me lost,
Legs too tired to walk,
it hurts to read,
to write.
I have given up
the Sunday news,
my morning journal,
where life could
tell me things
through my hands
I try for fifteen minutes
of work a day,
and to find new dreams
to fill my life,
green jars on the
kitchen counter
for herbal oils
I plan to make.
That is not it.
But what is?
I knew a woman
once who talked
about how many times
she had re-created
her life,
though that is not
the word she used.
How to re-invent
I want to go to a wig
but fear their annoyance
if I am only shopping
for looks,
and not their wares.
I always start
with hair,
thinking perm
or color
or cut.
It has been so
long since I
considered perm,
and keeping my gray
is an ideological
Cut is the same
old boring dilemma
I never resolve,
as I cannot seem
to resolve any
of my dilemmas
now that I can’t
write my way out them.