getting older

The lilacs were still in bloom
a week ago when I came home
(Home? But I miss the familiarity of Spanish,
of brown skin, tight clothes, crowded streets,
and my village.)

And all the fields were green with the June wetness of spring
Nw the Solstice has passed, the days turning again
We breathed in the piney wooden air,
celebrated with a campfire of firs,
bottle of white wine.
It felt good to pee outside again. It felt right.

I know I'm going to be okay, eventually.

When I look at my feet, the earth is moving,
a thousand ants moving the earth,
other unknown insects going about their lives
now recognized in the throes of weeding
Strawberry rows and cedar wax-wings,
their bandit masks betraying their mission.

I saw a bear cub on Tuesday.
I thank G-d for the soil, for work with my hands,
for every small door that points to Hope.