Nice little column by Marion Winik:
http://www.baltimorefishbowl.com/stories/true-confessions-a-writing-workshop-confidential/- wish I'd gotten to take a class with her when I was still going to the University of Baltimore...

I Could Find the Path

with my eyes closed.
evergreen bay leaf salt
through the tunnel of green.
there,
there the sea.
the greengrayblue.
seaweed sandpipers.

earlier, with our mothers, we sifted through family photos.
but as night fell, headed to the sea.
moon jellies glowing, bodies bumping against rocks.

and the tide pool,
there, by the jedi we raced as children--
having memorized all the gaps, the sloping rocks.

and the pool in the moonlight.
how i tore my clothes off, dove in...

Gatherings...

Driving through clouds in the valley, the baby's coos.
Khenpo's good dream.
By the Cinnamon Creek.
How I never went cranberrying, mushrooming, with my grandparents,
how I need my mind to unfold.
A cool glass of water.
He said we need to, "burst open the enclosure of ignorance and confusion,"
and in California, we all ate fire.
To ingest the sky, survive on air.
Pumpernickel Valley, Nevada.
It's 7:30 in the morning,
the days slowly unfurls,
forsythia blooms.
Earthquakes, tsunamis, tornadoes,
the elements, local deities uproarious.
Spring skirts and leggings and legwarmers
flowers and stripes.
Afternoon walks with the babe, mocha cappucinos.
Anticipating picnics, the sky.
How he said, "see you soon!" how it's coming true.
Pink,
tiny blossoms.
Has holiness been reborn?
How it takes a thousand years for a plastic bag to biodegrade...
And outside in the sprinkling rain, the chirping of birds, hands in wet soil.

surreal

spencer and i laying on hospital beds as k ultrasounds us. our organs aliens on the screen. my beating heart a small mouth opening, closing.

watching the fighter, feeling we knew those people, those voices.

Every thing

Where everything spills over walls, sidewalks.

Animals don't exist only as domestics in homes or wild. In zoos, barnyards, meat farms.
Everywhere roaming. 

People don't wash only in the privacy of home bathrooms. But at geysers pumped by hand outside one's home, or even one's internet cafe--toothbrushes tucked behind pieces of wire there at the spigot--while below, goats mingle--their small droppings.

Clothes are cleaned in the same water fish swim in, water buffalo drink from, cows and people wash in.

Vendors spread their fruit on the sidewalks by mounds of garbage, cow patties, buthcher stalls.