Journey to Your Deepest Self

A Sense of Place

bench and fence



It is morning,

the sun is shining,

birds are calling and

glinting dew is beaded along grass blades.

Or,

it is night,

a moonless night,

and stars are shining above

the gardens,

the neighborhoods,

the beaches,

the parking lots,

the wars,

the deceit,

the lovers,

the killers.

In other words,

You.

Nothing changes

anything.

Because there is

more than one way to read that,

because of that time

we drove in silence

all the way to the ocean,

because my shovel kills,

because she hid herself at recess,

because I got her back a day later,

because he died on a motorcycle,

because she’s afraid of flying,

because he was always stuck in the crib,

because she knocked it down,

because there was a rip in her jeans at the knee,

because that kid looked up into the face

of the person holding his hand,

because she saw it happen,

because he sat there and said it,

because the light changed, just then,

because you quit,

because I said so,

because of time,

because they listened to the tickling,

chiming sound of the waves

licking the beach,

because everything that matters

is here, now.

In other words,

You.

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2 Responses to “A Sense of Place”

  1. Luana says:

    Kathleen,

    I wish i had a Friend close by who spoke like this….Thank You for being like Me.

    and these tears

    Luana

  2. Thank you, Luana
    …for coming here and being here.
    It feels so sweet to share my tears with you.
    Kathleen

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