Of Course: Tonight is the Full Moon

False starts stutter across the page.  I am
restless, casting for something I can’t name.
I pick up a  pen, put it down, take up needle and
gaze out the window.  I run through creative
categories in my head:  clay, mosaic, collage
paint, and arrive at, “cookie.”

Full moon and big storm approaching, perhaps
it is negative ions unsettling me – that’s what my
chemistry teacher said in H.S. junior year
several lifetimes ago before I fell in love
the first time and learned the difference
between passion and co-dependence.

My fitbit morse-codes its lights like a judge
pointing out a walk wouldn’t hurt and
my mind returns to cookies which seem
to be at every turn of the maze of thought
I’m trying to untangle.  I look for scissors,
pretend to cut threads in the air, think

“breathe,” think “I am worthy,” think “COOKIE,”
watch the ferals mock fight in the backyard, note
the trees as still and suspended as I am,  listen to the dog
snoring soundly asleep on her green blanket,
see the rug needs vacuuming, consider it’s a great day
for reading, contemplate maybe eating just one cookie.

My mother’s suggestions were always, “Read
the Bible,” or, “Clean the toilet.”  But she is many
years gone, except for dreams when she comes and
we discuss how she loves the smoke plant I put
in the garden especially for her and she strokes
my hair.  When that happens, I never think, “cookie.”