It really was. But it could equally have been written during any moment of the last, what, month? Year? American presidential administration? How much continual sympathetic nervous system activation can a body take?

“A lot” is the answer (we are evolved for this), but there are associated costs. Which is another reason I write poetry, I guess, and read it aloud. Strong allies: Breath. Memory. Love.

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Postcard Written During a Tsunami Warning

There were times in my life that I knew were the best times.
And I want to tell you now: I didn’t waste them.
I drank good wine. I read poems to the sea.
I climbed a mountain, cradling its glaciers.
When I had mine. I sent flowers from the bergschrund
to everyone I loved. And I love you still.

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