I upload our memories
to websites, print others out,
clip the sharp edges of striped cardstock
with red ribbon borders, stitched photo matting
I bought on eBay. Onto blank pages of a square,
aqua scrapbook labeled “Winter Beach,”
I tape my teenagers in.
Daily, minute-ly, I want to make
the most of my hours. I want to do–
laundry, painting, writing, creating,
care taking, learning, money earning–
something, something that tells me
I’ve DONE something. So I’m earnestly
looking at pictures, my kids’ girly faces,
wind-whipped pink, soft, cold hands
reaching up and out to feed
salt-born, wind-born, God-born gulls,
my girls giggling, balking, nearing could-be
nipping beaks, shivering with the love
of all things alive.
and then I say yes.
Yes, I did do something.
I have indeed done something.
And that is enough for now.
And it is good.
It really is.
Copyright March 8, 2012