Lucky

Originally posted on Amethyst Review.

My thoughts linger

on the hem of my purple dress.

I am not a perpetual witness to failure

but a doppelganger uncovering roots –

source of connection and remembrance.

Sometimes I traverse the road between heaven and hell,

strumming “So Long Marianne” on a beat-up guitar

or fingering prayer beads.

I don’t recognize family portraits in the hall,

blue light turning faces olive and sullen.

I listen to myself whistling.

It’s not a matter of chance,

not a question of who, what, where, why

or when, but the other w — wonder—

whipping around the windowsill

as Earth spins into dawn.

I bathe in morning light

with a full view of the chapel.

I am not my own worst enemy.

I am a lucky lady holding out a finger for a bird.