We try to find momentum
on this ride that carries us
with glacial ponderosity
along a course in which we have
neither steerage nor vision —
just the slight sinking feeling
that we are moving. Maybe
at the speed of days, maybe slower

We look for grace
in the things that feed us —
smiles and conversation,
progress in our work,
the glow that comes from being kind

We will find a music for these times,
we will use it to fly
a few feet off the ground,
just enough to give us delight,
just enough to feel alive.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 30, 2016

The scent of orange oil on fingertips,
the complex progression of its taste
when breathed in, is like the moments
a year lays down — when I look back,
I see the way my thoughts
were all of a piece,
though they seemed different as they unrolled

I feel I traveled both farther and less far
in my progress through the year
than I could register
at the time

Now wind beats rain against the house,
staccato counterpoint
to the radio’s music
And the darkness at end of year
sits in puddles in the street
while we step through each unmeasured day
toward an undefined tomorrow.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 26. 2016