IT'S ALL RIGHT

It's All Right

It's all right to leave everything.

Everything waits quite patiently,

well practiced in the art of being.

 Even seashells from distant shores,

the fallen feathers of  birds, old rocks

to remind this space of all other places.

The museum of myself surrounds me.

I am embedded within it here in rooms

where memories are visible as artifacts.

I'm the main exhibit and sole curator.

The museum is my home. Here's where I,

an aged woman, live my life in the everyday.

It's all right, tonight I made my singular mark;

three long flights to the street, around several blocks

to the lunch-room of what we called School for the Deaf.

Ignoring that irony, I counted voters, unknown

and long known neighbors who elected participation.

At home, 'hen of the woods' soup waiting to soothe me.

I remember when one could ride the 'Vermonter'

straight through to Canada, absent of border guards.

Now fears have returned to dominate my 'golden years'.

It's all right. I've rivers of sweet dreams flowing;

dreams wherein love is the answer to every question,

where kindness is the highest value and empathy prevails.

~*~

Manhattan New York

November 6, 2018