December 24, 2024

pulse

This morning, waking to snow. It took hours to drink a single cup of coffee. 
We played a game that ended on the word “tofu.” Another potholder, like 
a new kind of clockwork. Friends in Zoom boxes. A triad of timezones.
I turned myself, briefly, into an animated rodent. Later, my mother’s voice 
less than 300 miles south and west. A whole day stretching like taffy. 
Mahjong for two. A rerun of salad and cold roast chicken. The cat, finding
a place to land between meals. Flicking the fireplace switch on and off. Lights
from an intermittent plow. I wish I could put my arms around the world, say 
Sshhh, it’ll be alright. Set out bed linens, a small reading light, pillows. But first, 
to get quiet inside. Find the pulse in my own wrist. One, two, three, four.