Note to self during a moment's peace:
When your mind becomes the lawn mower
and you are the lawn, the blades run emotion’s movies long boxed in an attic
or below the ground somewhere –
chug through your thoughts, a
steady churn disrupting the basic parts of your day,
Breakfast is now no longer on automatic pilot.
The social circles, their healing balm turns to blame;
and shame finds a friendly field in which to flourish in--
That is when you look out
and not in
and keep the conversation strictly on that view.
Be as if new born; a witness to the landscaping,
the pruning and clipping ignored,
the center piece machine cedes again to the shadows
where it will always live.
Remember then how important it is to
create memories whose flash backs won’t dangle you to