The Body Poem Project: Also Missing

Also Missing 

Sitting on the red couch with Lily in my lap and Tish sleeping beside us to the right,

I want to enter a library and browse books I have never heard of and may not like, 

I want to ascend the old steps and smell the moldy papery smell, 

I want to travel the world, going from place to place, and experiencing the new, 

Absent that option, also, I don’t want to move from this one contented place. 

Walking on the dog trail golden leaves melting beneath our feet, 

I feel an overwhelming sense of love and peace,

I feel my heart briefly lifted and hope for the future, 

I feel the pervasive dread evaporate into the fallen leaves,

Also, I feel some distress about the utter, unending evilness of the world. 

Wanting breakfast waffles, poutine, and biscuits and gravy, I sit upon the couch again, 

I hunger for a way to keep them all safe and help them feel confident and assured, 

I hunger for a way to talk without talking and do without doing,

I hunger to find satisfaction and fullness in this body which wants to masticate so much, 

And then, also, I don’t want to rise and prepare food. And sit here, instead, with these dogs on my lap.