I’m not talking about how much my arm hurts
Or how sitting in the car for a long time
Is a pain in my injured patooty.
I’m not talking about the overwhelm
The obvious and the layered
The things of which we cannot speak.
I’m not talking about unfulfilled commitments
The grief and yes the relief
The longing for simple.
There is sun glinting off of water
And the promise of grass
And blessed autonomy.
Get a move on little girl!