I am working on being more intentional, directly
asking the day’s nimbus for its vascular biceps,
afternoon for its ability—no, serenity—
to sleep a spell in the slant of what morning left
behind. And then, the gloam, courage to leave
remains in hands more careful and capable
than my own. Or perhaps it is more directed,
closer to the shut-eyed affirmations
I made as a child when the neighbor’s muscle car
revved its engine at bedtime, beating a fist against
my window and the thin layer separating me
from my tachycardic heart. Inadequate protection
from the threat most everyone can feel
if they just pay close enough attention. Maybe
that is what I am doing now. Maybe
I’m just paying closer attention. Maybe
I’m just praying. Maybe I’m changing
everything I still can.
Katherine Mercurio Gotthardt
Copyright November 12, 2024
I am working on being more intentional, directly
asking the day’s nimbus for its vascular biceps,
afternoon for its ability—no, serenity—
to sleep a spell in the slant of what morning left
behind. And then, the gloam, courage to leave
remains in hands more careful and capable
than my own. Or perhaps it is more directed
than that, closer to the shut-eyed affirmations
I made as a child when the neighbor’s muscle car
revved its engine at bedtime, beating a fist against
my window and the thin layer separating me
from my own tachycardic heart. Inadequate protection
from the invisible threat most everyone can feel
if they just pay close enough attention. Maybe
that is what I am doing now. Maybe
I’m paying close attention. Maybe
I’m praying. Maybe I’m staying present.
Maybe I’m changing what I can.
Katherine Mercurio Gotthardt
November 12, 2024
