Horizontal

She spends much more time on the horizontal these days

Watching me 

for signs of movement

Signs that she can somehow be involved

In the things we do

Worrying when the door opens up.

Sighing and sitting when the leash does not come out of its hiding spot.

My neighbours got a puppy

All floppy ears and tangled limbs

Leaping up the stairs, chasing bees

I remember those days.

Now that I watch her slow descent

Into the quiet of our lives, I wonder...

Does she know that she ushered us through the most important years of our lives?

Does she know that she taught me about friendship more than anyone I’ve ever known? 

Good girl. Good good girl. 

During the pandemic

We noticed the hot pink shooting stars and lily of the valley, making their way out of the earth, like any other year, only seemingly more ardently. We noticed the birdsong in the mornings, previously confined only to our ringtones, now here, outside our windows. We noticed raccoons becoming brazen in the street. We also noticed that words like, I love you and can I see your face, even if over video,  became less clunky, easier to deliver. We noticed that meditation is a lifeline. We noticed that grievances and feuds, they needed to die with the virus too. We saw our lovers in a new light. We saw our ex lovers in a new light too. Our aspirations started to move - the things we felt were previously dictating our actions were no longer relevant. We noticed how nice it was to dig in the earth. We appreciated the supply chain: the fruit pickers, the truckers, the ones that take care of us and walk us through the narrow passages of our lives. We noticed who showed up. We noticed the sunsets and the quiet. We noticed the sky clearing and the neighbours making room for each other on the sidewalk, in the grocery store. We noticed the elders in their homes. We noticed the bakers, the shop keepers. We noticed the future that our children used to know about had now turned into sand. Will we walk 6 feet apart into the new world? Will we will find our truths and pull them gently to the surface? Will we drink ourselves dry? Will we cry ourselves clean? Will we rinse out the debris that has collected in the corner of our lives? Will we show up for each other in new ways? Will we honour those that passed? Will we shake loose from the masks we used previously to get by? Will we let the thread of love stitch us back together?