Dancing in the Peace Garden

it was just one of those weeks.

nothing too awful, just pain.

the kind that makes you grab at your

chest, holding your hand over your heart,

somehow wondering if you might just

start bleeding--everywhere--because

it hurts. it aches.

it was one of those weeks.

and somehow it has to get out. 

there are tears

and long runs and 

walking on sidewalks,

time spent wandering, 

going no place in particular.

and then finally i'm in the

garden across the street
--the peace garden. it's empty and quiet. 

the museum in the background is closed.

it has a fountain, a large tree, benches.

i pick a song on my ipod

and dance until

all the hurt comes through.

i danced until i cried.

i danced until i stopped.

i danced until i found a way out,

until the bleeding stopped,

until i felt a little more normal.

and i may have looked crazy. sure.

but at some point i stopped caring. 

surviving, and living, and dancing 

were suddenly much more important.

             

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