I didn't write poems for May or June (in my defense a LOT was going on elsewhere in my life/brain), but I'm back on the wagon for July. Today my poem celebrates and honors the end of a chapter in my life. My 2015 poems so far have all related to my job, so it seems fitting for July's too.
Freedom
It's the little things, like leaving behind a set of keys that was all but attached to you.
Or having the weight of several hundred loads of laundry lifted from your shoulders.
I'm free, you think. Free to enjoy the rain without worrying about someone else's plants,
free to leave town without wondering if you forgot to lock someone else's doors.
For a little while at least, you're untethered. Anything and nothing could happen,
but your response no longer has to be how to solve the problem that really isn't yours.
You can let go of all the trivial information you stored for rainy days and emergencies.
You can coast away on your bike without second guessing your housekeeping skills.
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