At the lake
Walking clockwise on the path
Hand on heart.

I am enough.
I love you.
You are okay.

Listen to the trilling nightingales at this start of day

Do they ask themselves if their trill is good enough?

They sing and sing, heedless

Fly and perch, alight upon the nearest trees, breast unconsciously aflutter with every exhaled song, unaware of themselves, but only of their surroundings, as they flit along

Singing across the lake.

A black bird on the log railing by the land bridge — a crow? A raven? Blue-black, even its beak; eye like a jewel. Wing fingers spread wide, cocking its head to the side, another flight


The shirtless man on the tractor is mowing the long grasses

annoyed he has to wait.

I increase my gait.


There, another man pees upon a tree, I pretend I don’t see. When I pass, he looks uneasily at me


The sky is blaze blue; canicule. But in the lake it’s grey, meeting the outline of the trees, collided collage of two dimensions, faded in between. The water is dimpled here, but lined there, like etchings on a vinyl record freshly poured

on a hot beach. Mirage


I am in the moment and I am alive;

it’s one time I don’t wish I were someone else inside

—someone better or someone worse.


I had some words

so I sang a verse.





Edit: p.s. thanks to G4G for the bird analysis. Think he was right in that linked comment thread. Here is the sound of the nightingale:

2 thoughts on “Affirmations

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