first Sunday in March

 

 

 

 

It’s in the light sifting through your bedroom window
It’s in the street when the whole world is pitched and slow
It’s in the basement, where you left it
It’s in the ground
It’s in your head

 

~ Neil Hilborn
“I don’t know what it is, but I do know where to find it”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

winter shadows on the table in the hall

 

 

 

 

I hear the quiet
in the dark

and smell the warm sunlight
dancing across the wall

I see the crack in the jar
where the cover doesn’t quite fit

I feel the chip in the wall
in the shape of a ragged heart

I taste the offering of sweetness
waiting on the table

 

I think

this is me

my self portrait