March 24, 2026
The list goes on, and each day I look at my calendar,
glad for these events
and the ones to come,
but as for decorations,
I’ll keep them in boxes this year.
January 17, 2026
I’m going to see my sis today.
She loves when I tell
her stories. [Laugh.] So I’m
wearing my fossil bracelet with
a chambered nautilus [66 million
years old]; Amber [I’ll make up
a date]; A shark tooth — not a fossil.
January 11, 2026
Always the same large cups, mine from Fretboard and his from Trailhead.
Always the same dance of the mugs, clinking the ceramic, the scalding first sip.
The coffee is a ritual of purpose, of togetherness.
Of starting a day, and taking on a responsibility for myself and another person.
Something I chose and continue to choose.