Purple Mat

A purple rubber mat
on the floor
beckons my stiffness
into a yoga space
of self acceptance
a way
to stretch myself
into a disposition of
thanks for
today
This morning
I sit near an open
window
Chicago's spring air
to my mind colder
than it is
in Texas
and I talk myself
into a "fixin to pack"
mood for leaving
this bluesy town
I visited for about four months
and ecstatically
enjoyed
for all of about
thirty days.
ERA
April, 2000
Chicago, IL

Awakened

At half past 4
by the tourists on the streets below
filled with bars that close at 4 a.m.
in Chicago's Gold Coast
a woman screaming out her window
"shut up people are trying to sleep!"
me and my cat Rachel
snuggled under covers
that are an inch deep
I stumble to the bathroom
and back to my bed
adjust the covers and
stuff a pillow over the window
that lets in sharp cold air

I remember it's my last
official teaching day
and that makes me somber
but then I awake later to the
memory that two years ago
today
Mommy passed away
and I contemplate
how unimportant
that chit and chatter
of drunks swaying
'neath lampost light
when we know and remember
and remind ourselves
yet forget
that one day we'll have our crazy lives
put out like a hand in the hallway
turning out the switch light
so
enjoy your days
keep your worries buried deep
and if you really
have to care
put on earplugs
and enjoy your sleep.

@La Escritora
April 18,2000
downtown Chicago, IL