this day. a friday.

********

*

 

 spent the day moving rocks. again. 

this is the final resting place for the rocks.

not all of them.

i left behind many rocks on the gravesites

of a few of our friends. 

i told mister pencilfox:

they need some rocks to remember where they are. 

this is because mister pencilfox 

will be covering over our friends' burial sites

when he moves dirt for the road to the upper terrace. 

pluckie. 

otie cat.

sugarwolf.

bones are just bones:

their real resting place is in my heart.

in mister pencilfox's heart. 

some days just feel too heavy 

and i'm done with all that. 

after spending the past two months

sad and logy

i'm ready to rise above. 

long appointment yesterday. 

it's not that i'm too sensitive, as many people delight in telling me. 

as my doctor put it: "they're just not sensitive enough 

to be in tune with themselves." 

found out my thyroid wonked out again 

and that's what's been twisting my mind and my body 

this past two months. 

i knew something was wrong: 

i'm just sensitive that way. 

*

the songbirds are back. 

mister pencilfox had stated 

with a tone of authority:

they'll be back. 

they are nesting. 

he was right.

so after moving the rocks: 

i sat on the bookshed steps

and delighted in the chirps and songs

of the chickadees as they 

flitted between feeders. 

i looked down 

and there lay ziggy

right over there

staring at me. 

i have all i need. 

i have all i need. 

right here. 

right now. 

********