by Deborah Hamon
The warm sun softens the goosebumps
that have commandeered my body overnight.
I count them,
one by one,
As they slowly loosen.
They are stubborn at first.
The load of an aging parent,
The injury cycle of money,
The daily pacing of parenting,
And what to do in the studio today and forever.
But as the sunrise leaves the sky
And enters my heart,
The goosebumps begin to increase their departure from my skin.
They move faster and faster,
Quickening with my cadence and breath.
I am bursting.
I want to shout to the mountains,
If only all the trees would listen.
“Today I know will be a great day!”
And tomorrow we will do it all again.