Squirrels

Waiting for my son today
I cranked up the volume on my iPod
To drown the chatter of the super moms.

I watched the light play in the trees
I don’t know if it was the music
Or the green grass of the playground
But I found myself back on Harvard Campus
Laying on the lawn over 15 years ago.

There were squirrels
Small and reddish brown
They were beautiful and delicate
Climbing up the huge trees
Against a backdrop of brownstones.

I was reading I think that day
Trying not to go home
To my crowded house on Ware street
Looking for silence and a taste of space.

And I kept pronouncing squirrel
In my accentuated English
Hoping I sounded American enough
To blend into that new life.

Inspiration

I no longer have a muse
The pain is gone
And words less urgent.

So I look for my true place
And feel what I feel
Knowing that there I’ll find
The genuine sadness
That overflows onto my black notebook.

Caring

I have experienced being,
I have found my seat
And taken up space on this earth.

It feels soft,
Slightly ironic
And strong.

From here
I can say no and I love you.

From here
I can smile at your chaos
And embrace your suffering.