Half Phase Out of Step

It's been a loopy day. Work is having rumbles of indigestion in the social and staffing arenas. I predict a near future with lots of overtime. I woke up with a cold stalking me. It's just waiting for a moment of weakness. That means an early bed time for me. :p

That's the biggest problem with mandatory overtime in conjunction with divorcing. There's just not a whole lot of time left over. It's really getting to the awake REM deprivation state. Which is to say, because I haven't done very much unwinding lately, the pressure to DO stuff is getting pretty intense.

I'm getting to the point where working in Antarctica sounds really, really good. Parasailing? In a heartbeat. Bicycling across Canada? Let's go! Which reminds me, somewhere on my calendar it says Irish Pub. I still haven't been to one! C'mon, Phalmy! Arch can meet us there!

Buuuuuut, until I release some energy I will be strange. I mean, more so than usual. Let me just hang up the Quarantine sign and dig in. ;>

~

The weighty slap of water on rocks
the fall of waves on rubbled coral
standing on the pronged cold lava
over the sour glance of crabs
it's left salt, the ocean has
a gift for this outcrop
the empty stone bubbles
a memory of fire gently cupping air
now hold white glittering
nothing so cold as diamonds
but the warm taste of blood
saline and iron when I lick
the palm of the land
kissed by the sea

A child such as I
came from this womb of earth and heaven
under the early sun I climb out again
to watch it rise in volcanic fog
this time the air is warm and the rock cold
but a few pools over
the trapped water is blue
and staring at the sky
in what year will that home
send someone forth
someone else with salt in their veins
to meet in the crisp air.