A place that’s warm can give me
permission to cry — kindness so often
sets me off, I don’t know why —
I don’t know if it rolls me onto
the underside of long and steady courage,
if it makes my vigil seem bleak, if it allows
a setting down of strength,
and if this flood is something
I just needed, or if it is
a detour from the program
and does no earthly good

I don’t know why, but I feel
grateful and unhinged
both at the same time.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 4, 2018