In this chair
in front of the cabin
below Mount Katahdin
on Nesowadnehunk Lake,
amidst the rumble of the bumble bees in the fading clover blossoms,
I can just nearly still reach that chair in my head.
In that chair where there was no cell phone coverage or email.
No expectations I couldn’t meet, or mail I had to open.
In that chair I was invited to do nothing but sit.
In that chair barefoot delighted boys romped in the grass in front of me.
In that chair bear, butterflies, and bullfrogs were just beyond me.
In that chair meteors showered above me.
In that chair the weight of my breath intentionally reminded me
that I can choose to be in a rhythm around me.
In that chair where for an instant I was not a Catherine, a mother, a Mommy,
a teacher, an ally, a neighbor, and advocate,
an organizer, a planner, a goof up, an inspiration, a frustration
or a friend on the mend.
I was almost nothing,
but close to me
in that chair.