This is the summer of my voice.

Of finding new ways to bite my tongue on social media.
Failing miserably at ignoring my Father’s pro-Trump Facebook posts
and inflammatory, snipey emails.

Of standing up for what I believe in and knowing when to back down.
Of mourning and saying “enough.”

Of reading,
but not writing, at least not as much as I’d like.
Of juggling responsibilities and priorities.

Of appreciating warm mornings, no coat required.
Walks with the pups, on our path, on the beach, in new towns.

Of those damn enormous cicada killer wasps,
that burrow into our yard
leaving piles of dirt polka-dotting the grass.

Of soaking in the sun on foot or on bike.

Of wondering whether it is time to jump ship
Or stay the course and wait until the water hits my chin.

Of gentle parenting, steering grown children back on course.
Of watching my daughter become a woman,
seeing her discover her strengths and the joy in her own voice.