my main problem is pessimism,
making for salmonella in the chicken salad.
my other main problem is attachment to routine,
thus the death-grip on my morning run.
my family, large and small, are disruptors, the lot of them;
they knock the stuffing out of
the blanks i fill in with fear,
deny me the anesthesia of schedule.
their methods are pedestrian, by family measure;
baby cheeks, breakfast omelets, to underscore joy is everyday possible,
their smiling goodbyes, chances to practice easier grace.
Imperfect is perfect!