August 2
In Plain Sight
When there is a problem, I hide. As the good places diminish I end up standing
behind a pole. The trouble with this is
that something always sticks out. I try
weight loss, I suck in my tummy, I try to blend with the scenery. Once spotted I act nonchalant; “I’m just
hanging around with my skinny friend; nothing is the matter,” attempting to
cover with a casual aside what is apparent to everyone but me. I would be better off parading naked than
endeavoring this piteous disguise. I
can’t fool the crowd and trying to makes a fool of me. What I have forgotten is that clarity and
diligence removes the target from my back and makes me invisible to almost everyone. When I solve my problem I solve this problem
too.
Permit anxiety to drip off you and flow away
*
WALKING JOY
HOME
I make sure to walk joy home,
Not because I doubt her ability to find it alone
Rather because it gives me extra time with her.
I used to fear joy.
That I would be intoxicated by her presents
And lose my well-hardened grasp on realism.
Now I see that without joy in my life there is no
realism
That it was only cynicism
Masquerading in its place.
Joy is simple and unassuming,
I often confuse her with ecstasy and scoot away in
shy terror
Joy is nice to have around she is not just a party
animal.
Sometimes I invite her over for a cup of tea.
When we are done I take the winding path
To savor every step up to her door.
You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to
Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
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