I need time away, to be all by myself,
even though each step away
feels like a wrenching loose,
a sticking, then a tearing,
for who I am is a part
of a wonderful marriage,
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOp25BMR8Io23vJ26Uyenzv-UTIekwuG8xdnwmxDes9BHoN92WvKjGvVnwFs_ie1iW6nfI3vohpvGW0Ib5b6worq_rj6mQhE6ptNajoqCPUNkkSVuiSPwLiXpUR5OqAWstIGKCkNyzO2k/s200/joan+2.jpg)
of fulfilling work as a teacher,
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQi9of31Qhij-iJ-2y1J8iVQuhf2RpBf74XYNiMfafVGsCyb299GDwCVkRUEGEP2Ew6Y2UoZI4kgCmAY6TsZqwx3-5uYjszADsMK-PDtOtfjmw4UZ7F1Z5_MxbNCDCMjzhqvo9RqaRt9k/s200/hw+3.jpg)
of friends, of neighbors, of home & garden,
all of whom I need,
and I hope that what I give
keeps up with what I get,
every once in a while, for a few days,
I need to peel away the other
and feel bare and vulnerable,
to feel alone and sad
for what I’m missing for a while,
like a computer, I sometimes need to shut down
and then reboot to be ready to respond appropriately
to all the programs within which I run myself.
December 1, ’11
postscript:
the afternoon before I leave to return home
I sit by the bountiful creek and I don’t really see it
for I am already rebooting and inserting myself fully
into the programs I run with my life.
by Henry Walker
December 3, ’11
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