Standing in the shower
watching the last of my bloods
mix with the water,
– Carrie, thirty years later –

Is this my power
Draining down,
out to return,
welcomed by rivers and oceans?

What does one do to prepare?
For the heat pulsing
in different locations and
the thinning of one’s crown?

Were there rituals we lost
with the movement of the sky down to earth?
Shall I throw a modern-day change indicator?
A fire sale of sorts?

Get it while it’s hot!

• old eating habits!
• undrunk shots of tequila!
• high heel shoes – still in the box!
• one womb –  like new – never used.

And yet,
as I stoop more often now,
I do find myself closer to the ground
– below the mists –
where the dirt smells its best.