Reboot
from Out With Lanterns, a daily poetry practice
All morning I wanted to cry. I searched for reasons, found none. Some days you just want to weep, I guess. Some days you want to toss up your hands, laugh at the ridiculousness of this existence and go straight back to bed. So, I did. Didn’t even pull up the covers. Sleep came fast, and I dreamt that I was in my childhood home snooping in my mother’s closet. On a top shelf, a blue jay lay on its side. I was sure it was dead, but I tapped it and it flew, like it was just waiting for me to tend to it, so I woke too, to try again.
