We are what we are

Am I happy,

am I sad,

in the texture

and the crevices

of the times

that we share?


We are

what we are,

we do

what we do,

as humans

going about

the acts of life

and finding our


fumbling forward.


Between the

clank of dishes

being washed

and the click of

lights going out,

there are the


and the glances

that reveal the


of being together

and being apart.


There is comfort

it seems

in the silences

and in the routines

that define us;

but beneath this

long-held ease

there are

the frustrations

that tangle and root

their way through

my being

to emerge in

places and times


but not unwanted.


Am I happy,

am I happy,

in the shifting

of these moments

and the wonder

of a future

that can

never come

and never be?


I am happy,

I keep saying,

in the things,

through the


that are shared,

in all that we are,

in the things

that we do.