It has been over a year now and I still wait for my shattered driveway to reconstitute and lead visitors past the pond-rocks, to where woolflowers tower proudly, contained in a pot. Some have tread quietly to the side door, mounting soft mounds of moss to tap with a fingernail on the dusty yellow glass, almost a doorbell. Is this how things are reassembled? Rising raw from the break to concrete in the sunlight — in time, the interior path repairs with callousing clay.
It’s been a while since my last post, and many things have changed. I’ve been working full-time with animals, a source of great stress and great fun in my life, and slowly reconnecting with the world outside of my immediate family. Coming back to people has been an unexpectedly positive experience, a balm in many ways to my own perspective of the world. Historically, I’ve never been a fan of people. I held them to unreasonable standards, and used those standards to justify a distaste for others and myself.
For some reason, I’ve found it difficult to maintain an observance of those standards. I’ve chilled out. My focus is on other problems — you probably know what they are if you’re reading poetry blogs. My aims have shifted away from the fine art world, because I can’t justify preserving the past when the future looms so darkly. So that’s what I want to work on: the future. Repairing myself is just the first step.
Words Under Construction 
One response to “Reconstruction”
I’ve also never been a fan of people. In my early years I was “burned” a lot! It took years for me to learn to embrace initially but keep at a distance. No real disappointments that way. Today I am grateful to be married to someone who really cared about people and holds me to a higher standards.
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