little fuses of bliss

little fuses of bliss
confides the woman I once
saw flash an oncoming bus
on a different January day

I played in the snow
in my (ha ha!) mini skirt
when the sky turned blue-black
and what’s up with that?

so beautiful, and I hope
you’re blessed, your day
is blessed and full of
little fuses of bliss

sweet lady, I think,
I don’t mind your kind
of strange contagious
and say thanks

© Sarah Whiteley

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mileposts

6:57 AM and light’s early overture
has warmed the cherry petals just enough
that the faintest scent of sweet emerges

maybe it’s more than just scribbling poets
who note these moments and mark the time,
mentally ticking off the mileposts to restoration

but this morning’s note is more than that –
today’s surfacing defines a full ten years,
and the cherry trees have bloomed to remind me

when my bus crosses John Street, I lose it –
cry quietly against the window at sunlight
pushing obdurately through the newest leaves

but by tiny degrees, I still find comfort
in the indomitable certainty that gently-scented,
spring will always return where you cannot

© Sarah Whiteley

A little sad today – marking the 10-year anniversary of losing my little brother. Don’t think I made a complete fool of myself on the bus – at least I hope not. I do find the cherry trees comforting. The bloom does go on.

On a side note, I do not recommend beginning spring by simultaneously breaking your toe and ripping the toenail off. Can we say ouch?! Yes,… yes we can. With a few other choice four-letter words thrown in for good measure!