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how it is our first and final loss
how it is always here and not here
how the way I dress for work preserves it,
letting the things of girlhood fall away
how you forgot why you were excited to get up
by the time you poured your coffee
how you ambled back into the house
with buds of phlox sticking to your shirt
how the weekend is a baptism in it
how it is the in-between that persuades us all
to tolerate the sound of our own voices
how every religion praises the life of it
how each day is unsummable
because of its endless wanderings
Poems from in between 
“How the weekend is a baptism in it” – so many lines like this that float beautifully on the significance of your meaning.
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Thank you. I really appreciate that.
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I have re-read the poem several times because it invites re-reading. I still get hooked by the very first line.
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Thank you. I am so glad it drew you in. I was pretty uncertain about using such a vague first line, so thank you for that particular feedback.
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how each day is unsummable
because of its endless wanderings
I love these lines for themselves, and for how they take me back and back through the poem, looking for and appreciating the other “wanderings.”
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🙂 Thank you.
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this feels into the space we contemplate in our yoga practice. space in our bodies, our joints, our minds, our hearts… love it…
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Yes, space in our joints … that gives way to all other sorts of space, you are right about that. Thank you. Glad this worked for you.
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