smart trips

sun shines through and warms my left foot.
this city is a forest
of neoclassical columns.
bus rides begin with yamakas
zipped-up babies
and The White House.
the Constitution is my co-worker
and Pennsylvania Avenue is my chauffeur.
going home goes like this: 
she gets off and runs like
the wind, or forrest, 
Forrest!, he yells in front of the national gallery
private school kids call the suicide hotline
and neither are funny.
and there’s a young woman in a wheelchair who makes me feel 
sorry so sorry that i get off at
*ding* stop requested: L street...
a stop early and then the homeless man I helped feed
last Friday at Miriam’s Kitchen
shakes a cup full of change.

are we there yet? 
or have we been here all along?
i have memories of familiarities 
from before they ever were
and i have heart space for people
that existed long before we ever met.



life is so good here that sometimes it feels like my bones are glowing.

last thursday i went to the national gallery by myself and there was almost nobody else there. there is something that happens to me when i walk into a museum--especially alone. it feels like everything that has been living inside my rib cage is released. and i get to look at it and feel it and be in it. we have conversations, the gallery walls and i. its a heart distance thing, not something i can tell you about with words. but it feels like i belong. and it feels like i am a work of art as well.

i was riding the metro home with my friend the other night and we were sitting in front a glass panel by the doors. i kept looking at my reflection there and what i saw was joy. i almost didn't recognize it on myself. i smile a lot here, and i have never before been quite so aware of my cheeks.

it is good to be happy. i am feeling more myself. i am just now realizing that 2013 has made me too hard. that might sound silly, i have always been a softie. but i have also always been fiercely independent, and the two are hard to balance. i didn't let myself fall in love. i don't mean with people and plans and ideas, but with everyday living. i didn't let myself fall in love with the mundane things, and you've got to love those. you've got to always be noticing the details, or else you're always looking ahead and never living.