A Note to My Natural Self

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A Note to My Natural Self

Surface touch
Glass which
Resists shattering
Will indeed splinter
One morning.

The unreadable screen
Reveals something
In these modern habits
Ways in which
Our eyes focus
Ways in which
Our fingers touch
Ways in which
We are unable
To find contentment.

Eyes focus not
At this salmon swirl in the sky
Rising sun
At this plum bath in the sky
Falling sun
Of these swishing leaves
Mesmerizing in this breeze.

We chase our lost tails
Waiting to be reconnected
Splintered into pieces
Loosely held together.
Until we rejuvenate
Looking up and out
Aware of possibility again.

Writing. Poetry. Personal Essays. On the NBA, MLB, media, journalism, culture, teaching and humor.

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