hyphen
looking back, will my life be
distilled to my years of birth and death
and separated by a horizontal line?
Will I be simplified to
a laundry list of my accomplishments
the ways I gave back to my community
the relational roles that I dutifully fulfilled
however, I believe
the measure of my life is not in
my professional titles
or the ledger in my bank account
or painting a perfect picture of myself
or whether I am well-liked
or the connections that I make
or how many kids I have
or the clothes I wear
or how I style my hair
of all these and more
I am quite proud
still, I choose to honor myself
in the small moments
not those that are loud
the legacy I want to leave
is all the things
that most people didn’t see:
after being short with her kids,
she usually remembered to apologize
carried water in her car to give
to unhoused people at stoplights
turned tidying into
opportunity for silliness
quietly hummed to herself
while doing the dishes
approached new community members
to help them feel welcome
listened to her husband’s feedback
and lowered her defenses
brought up the difficult conversation
with an old friend
said “no” when asked to do
something she had no interest in
promised “be there in a couple of minutes”
but usually took longer
admired the spores under a fern’s leaf
made space to feel her ongoing grief
painted fences
took naps
had a supremely messy car
played word games on her phone
stepped away from her kids
to take time alone
society told her to spend more hours at work
told her to be the glue
she vowed she’d workout
or empty the dishwasher
or check off another to-do
but instead she listened to the little voice inside
that told her to bring this poem to light
for at the end of the day
it’s moments like these
that make up a life\