Tuesday, June 2, 2015


even the small poems mean something, they are
often whales in the bodies of tiny fish. 
-nayyirah waheed

The alarm sounded at nine on Thursday morning. It was just a drill.
All the same, the suits went marching down 23 flights of stairs.
Fearing an avalanche of shirts and ties if I slipped
I sang to myself, Step, Step, Step, keeping cadence with the rhythm of my feet.
I reached the bottom safely, muscles long asleep quivered awake.

Today another bell rang, but not the office safety kind. This was not a drill.
All the same, I went marching down 14 years of memories. Engrossed,
I forgot my fears of the avalanche. I slipped, stumbled, recovered my footing.
The familiar song Step, Step, Step chirped in the background.
Tired, but whole, I reached the bottom, muscles long asleep quivered awake. 


  1. Angela, you are such a gift. The way that you put feelings and exquisite descriptions into words is a beautiful tapestry of life. Love you. Christine Lu

    1. Thank you for your continued support, Christine. xo

  2. So much goodness stacked line upon line here. My heart picks up every time I read your cadence. Awake and strong. Just like you. Xo
    {I think it gobbled my first comment. So if not, never mind. But it will always bear repeating how happy my heart is to find yours.}

    1. Awake and strong is the best thing you could see or say. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Also: Blast that blogger comment-gobbler!