the year is done. I spread the past three hundred
sixty-five days before me on the living room carpet.
here is the month i decided to shed everything not
deeply committed to my dreams. the day i refused to be
a victim to the self-pity. here is the week i slept in
the garden. the spring i wrung the self-doubt by its neck.
hung your kindness up. took down the calendar. the
week i danced so hard my heart learned to float above
water again. the summer i unscrewed all the mirrors
from their wallz. no longer needed to see myself to feel
seen. combed the weight out of my hair.
i fold the good days up and place them in my back
pocket for safekeeping. draw the match. cremate the
unnecessary. the light of the fire warms my toes.
i pour myself a glass of warm wter to cleanse myself
for january. here i go. stronger and wiser into the new.
~from the sun and her flowers (Simon & Schuster Canada, 2017)
