Monday, March 23, 2009

writing poetry the day it's due from semi-divine sources

Well, I've made it to spring.

And isn't it beautiful?

"Drive safely," shouting and clapping, this one beautiful on beam, this one's eyes on mine with panic as she competes the floor routine we just walked through--forgot there, nope, she's got it--this one crying with joy after her 8.0 on floor, full splits and back extension rolls today that will never make an appearance at practice, their eyes lighting up when I hand out their cardstock rewards, best score of the season, poems in progress--

and I am glad that I decided to be here.

I could be more. I ought to be more. But I think I will be.

Today I wish I hadn't spent so much of my life on one thing because that would make the rest of this easier or, in fact, very very possible instead of hands up, stop-and-laugh. I don't know what any of this means or what I should do but I find that I am moved instead of moving and that maybe for now, it's all right.

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