~

After living here for thirteen years,

I’m thinning out the landscaping

around our house which has become a jungle

of overgrown shrubs and bushes,

thistles, dandelions, witchgrass, and ivy.

~

For the first time in my life, I’m cutting carbs:

swapping blueberry muffins for plain yogurt,

russet potatoes for cauliflower rice,

chocolate chip cookies and fudge cake

for apple slices and Macadamia nuts.

~

I’m thinking it’s time to clean out my closets

of old sport coats, ties, and ugly sweaters,

give away toys and games the grandchildren

will never play again, those college notes,

diaries and journals no one will ever read,

post cards and souvenirs from God knows where.

~

And while I’m at it, how about

weeding out the landscape of my mind—

obsessions about who I think other people think I am,

anxieties over what I cannot change,

fears about what hasn’t happened yet,

critical voices from seventy years ago?

~

Recently, as part of a retreat on Hope,

our director suggested we make a list

of all our hopes, then cross out each one.

What remains, he said, is Hope.

~

Around me, the trees are taking

off their gaudy clothing,

leaving bare limbs to intertwine like lovers,

expanding horizons.

~ ~