Fish Harbor, J.Henry

Fish Harbor
By Jack Henry


i remember
the clang of halyards cry
well before the dawn

long thin bows cut
silver glass
sending tides
of rise and fall

a longing bellows moan
of the inner harbor
buoy greets them
as they go, off to
chase a crimson sun
gulls in their wake
as slowly gather speed

lights dim fade exhaust
as angry pistons kick
w/soulful force

i can hear the men
on the black wood decks
laugh, drink
coffee and go about
their day

we settle back to slumber
three hours before
a mid-week rise
no other sound, or sight
or thought crosses
through my mind, other
than the gentle creak
of a world spinning
around

--

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Stop Worrying So Much, M.Russell

Stop Worrying So Much!
By Maranda Russell

"Tension is what you think you should be. Relaxation is what you are." Chinese Proverb.

This quote really spoke to me. I have spent so much time tense and anxious about all that I feel I should be that I'm not, and all the things I think I should be doing, but can't. If I could just learn to be me, and be content with that, I could truly be relaxed. At peace. Tranquil. And that sounds heavenly to me.

I am a naturally wound up and nervous person that is seldom at peace. I am constantly looking for a cause to fight, an injustice to fix, a nit to pick. If I feel sick I start imagining I have cancer. If someone is late, they died in a car wreck. I am the meaning of the word worrywart. My boss at work is always telling me to "calm down skippy!" But one of the things I worry the most about is how I feel I'm not good enough. I haven't achieved enough, I haven't made a big enough difference in the world, I haven't made my million so I can give it to the poor.

So I'm thinking I really need to learn to relax. Be happy with who I am and where I am at in life. Not feel so useless if the kitchen is dirty and the cats stink. Or if I stink for that matter. It's pretty hot here today so I probably do stink. But maybe that's ok. I can always go take a bath. Is it really worth feeling like a failure because I don't always smell like a delicate rose? Or beating myself up because I ate some oreos and my pants are a little tight? Maybe instead I should thank God I'm not starving to death and that I have clothes to wear at all. I can't help but think when I am at the end of my life, I will look back and regret wasting all this time worrying about things I can't change and striving for what is always out of reach.

Spring's Sleeping, A.T. Leverton

Spring's Sleeping
By Adam Tod Leverton

What causes the spring
to wake in fits
like the restless sleep of a drunk man?
The dogs barking in heat
the birds-winging exhausted to roost?
No. It is the old woman
stooped over, wearing slippers,
sweeping the dirt with a too short brush,
muttering curses under her breath
She has disturbed Spring's sleeping.