• Carly Feinman

Day 69- 11.24.20

The feeling

I'm thankful it's on it's way onward

like a rain cloud or

a rusty can on recycling day.

The feeling gets further each day

like the ability to recall the scent of snow

in summer's wet center.

The feeling dissipates with each

compassionate interaction, each

island of passion reignited, saved from

dropping to the bottom of the sea.

The feeling akin to what the bottom of a foot

must feel in a gym sock.

The feeling adjacent to that of a shucked oyster

on display in the window of

a boisterous Wellfleet pub.

The feeling owns me until one day

I wake up

and it doesn't.

Miracle of miracles.

2 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Day 78- 11.3.20

Cezar Chavez Park I. The bay pulls up on the coastal rocks like a car that’s finally found a parking spot which is to say easily and with great gratitude. II. Each ripple coming towards the yellowed g

Day 77- 12.2.20

It is terrible To wake in the night and immediately know this is it for a while, until dawn, until your corner of the world collectively wakes many hours from now-- this waiting, this staring at the c

Day 76- 12.1.20

a Haiku for Sara She passed in the night with a peace so deep and true it had to be earned.