Promise to Self

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This year, I have a list of things I intend to do
instead of avoid –
like going to the beach and swimming in the sea
and using a public swimming pool when there are other people around.

Designed to stretch me in multiple ways,
I expect to experience a plethora of days.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
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This Little Light

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There is a way out of the forest;
I truly believe that.

And in the meantime,
I have my candle for light.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
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Baby Steps

Today, I let the sand
massage my feet
and the sea
wash the lethargy from my legs.

Later, sitting on the balcony,
my arms lift themselves
high above my head
in quiet celebration of that.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
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Grunt Work

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A generator’s purr
removes crickets and cars
and a man with a back bum
tears up the landscape.

I watch small children dancing
without making a noise,
and chase after lifelike toys
that scamper around on twig legs.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
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Grounded

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Like a bird with clipped wings
I can no longer fly

and I don’t know
how to navigate this.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
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Sleeping Dogs

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Today, the vertigo is back
and my energy is flying around
like rabbits.

Gravity has become my enemy
and I cannot lie still enough.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
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False Friends

The moth that I admired on the balcony
is now inside my house

partaking of things
I did not consent to give.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
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Dirty Laundry

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Down by the bins
there is a bag full of clothes

and an Indian lady with an ironing-board 
pulling things out.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
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Pea Soup

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The river today stagnates,
and the air around it is pillow-thick
and heavy like soup;

…the kind that comes in off the sea as mist
and swallows you
(and everything else that surrounds you)
up.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
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Juxtaposed

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Underneath, the river snakes by in silence –
happy, tranquil;
peaceful and undisturbed.

Above, a dustcart grumbles –
mute on plastic, paper,
glass and gum.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
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