Smoky Blue Literary and Arts Magazine #16

My Messy Self She passes me as I amble down the street She, all trim and steady hair clipped in a tidy cap pressed capris white tennis shoes beneath slender ankles arms swinging, head up And I smile Because I like her I like her open sure gait her clarity and order her sense of purpose and cool poise And I smile because I like my messy self I love my friends of the carefully controlled lives the meticulous parties the calendars and charts I love their courage and their conscientious constancy And I like my messy self my frazzled braid my never (not ever) done nails the disorder of my desk the chaos of my life the mad, miraculous messiness of it all and the miracle of those who stride through my chaos with trim ankles and clear eyes We all have our anchors in this world whether chaos or order each a home built on the volcano’s edge each a daily act of infinite spirit Judith Mikesch McKenzie