Carrying You in my Pocket – a poem

Carrying you in my pocket means

You need to scooch over to make room for my chilled hand.

Worry beads, rosaries, pebbles and jade have all made way.

Like a stone in my pocket, you soothe.

Like a stone in my shoe, you impede.

Like a stone in my kidey, you hurt.

Like a stone mason, you chisel until I am less than who I was.

I sink to Earth’s roiling lava center to dwell with Pele in fire and iron.

When we emerge, the land burns and the ocean boils.

I am solid and jagged and whole.

Copyright cgtrippenterprises.com 2019

Published by Ms. C. G. Tripp

The new business cards have arrived and with the speed of virtual press, I am self-titled: Catherine G. Tripp, Writer/Investor. Left brain and right brain have battled for dominance all of my life. I wrote the marketing materials for my mortgage brokerage, had a personal finance column at Examiner.com, wrote essays, short stories and poems published in school papers and magazines then literary journals. If my writings were a color, they would be yellow, bright as sunlight, highlighting the salient portions, not obscuring the past but deconstructing air brushed stories, finding humor and courage in the unloved corners.

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