After Work

It’s twilight and the colors fade —
the cat I’m petting
now the same shade
as my hands, my sleeve

She doesn’t like my writing
so she pushes her cold nose
against my hand, my pen, my book.
The visual texture of fur, of firs,
blends into similarity,
I can’t see my words

The turkeys in the trees are quiet now,
I hear crickets, and homebound traffic,
this cat is warm but the air grows colder —
time for a transition.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 2, 2019

The Season Turns

I lit a fire this morning,
up before dawn,
before the sun slowly glowed
through the fog

Hot water rippled from the kettle
for my tea, the cabin
filled with warmth by then,
daylight peaking in

Later, for awhile,
the sun warmed everything it touched,
but evening finds us hoarding warmth,
holding close to heat sources,
seeking to absorb enough
to ease us through the night.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 1, 2019

Necessities

I didn’t brush my teeth last night,
didn’t write a poem either —
daily necessities overridden
by the black rolling of roof underlayment
racing against darkness and the predicted rain,
and no motivation to cook by lantern light
and all the restaurants closed or far away

I didn’t write a poem last night
or brush my teeth either —
just crawled in bed,
but all is well —
everything is still here in the morning.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 22, 2019

There’s got to be a little poem in here somewhere

…in the heat of the day
and our leisurely pace
and our trek into town to do laundry

Overalls and garbage bags,
air condition, internet,
people we would never see
in any other circumstance

We built a wall today
(well, partially)
and we’ll build more tomorrow.
Young turkeys ran before us down our road
while swallows occupied the evening sky

…a little poem emerging
as the air cools down,
leaving space for words
I couldn’t find before.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 13, 2019

Resting

We settle ourselves back
into our closer orbit,
we give ourselves permission
for a moment’s rest

It has been work, it has been growth,
it’s been excitement —
we were willing, we were driven,
we pushed ourselves beyond our edge

Now we return —
it may be just a very short pause
before resuming our stalwart pace —
for now we’ll take the time
to be still,
take time to drink
from the pool of grace.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 11, 2019

Regeneration

Come back home, little one —
it isn’t far — it’s right here, in fact —
let your curled up body
feel the comfort of the floor,
the cradling earth beneath,
the sky blanket above

You can come back
into yourself, you can feel
strength flowing to you from within.
You don’t have to put on a perfect face,
don’t have to feign invincibility.
What you are will bring itself full circle,
as you wait for it,
when you’re ready,
you can stand up whole.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 29, 2019

Quick Release

Today I see the value of a quick release,
the way I can unhitch myself
from trains of stories, when I feel them
careening towards a cliff,
when my emotions
have set up camp
and prescribed a course of action
that entails me crouching in the mire
of hurt

I asked myself,
which would you rather?
This, or being strong, resilient,
competent, and free?
— That was my quick release —
my choice was clear —
to leave the crouching mire
and center, here.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 22, 2019

At the Public House

All these people walk through life
slicing their intersections through the day,
each from their center perspective
with their invisible wake

We could make a pattern
like marbling in a scarf,
we could know, or never see
the change we make in passing through

As to the grand plan of things,
the design that we all make together,
collective results of all of our movements —
that is beyond my perception.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 12, 2019

Stall

Well, here we are.
We seem to have
spiraled down
into this little pool
in which it is not clear
how we’ll ever move again,
how we will get up
and take care of ourselves
and do the work tomorrow calls for

This rain and the warm air
hold us in slow motion
though at this point
we are not moving at all —
tomorrow may bring
a clearer direction
to lift us up out of this stall.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 9, 2019

Leaning

This can be a space of
leaning into you,
of being quiet,
taking our tone
from the softness of the day,
its cloudiness, mist hanging
in the trees,
evening seeming to come sooner

Feelings can rise like mist
and sit in mind
like low clouds —
we won’t do anything about them
except lean in for comfort,
lean in for support.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 1, 2019