I am in my story

I am in my story.
I am wearing my hula girl socks
so I don’t forget my life is a vacation.
Blue smoke from a French cigarette
reassures me that this is a writing retreat.
Birds talk, trees whisper,
a garter snake writes letters on the path.
everything speaks to me here,
even a spam email inviting me
to become a collector of delinquent debts.

Overnight I was in other stories.
I cut a porthole between worlds.
I rode a sea monster with my fish spear in its neck.
I escaped being sprayed with samsara perfume.
I played hopscotch on a Paris street.
My new baby was born in a delivery room
full of printouts. The mother, flirting,
won’t show me my beautiful child yet;
she doesn’t want to spoil the surprise
when I see it whole and lovely, in gurgling delight.

I am in my story.
Every day is a holiday when you do what you love.

-         -  Mosswood Hollow, May 23, 2017