Nancy Vorkink

Rookie (New York)

Prose Poem Birthday Retreat - Poem by Nancy Vorkink

First snow coming, and our bags unpacked. Quick shifts with too much luggage in the cab, and off we go. Foothills rise to meet us. As the rain fell, soon Highway 6 snakes to our adobe inn. We know the check-in people and they take our bags to the Navajo Room.

Here a retreat. A time to be together, to be quiet, to rest together, and a time to enjoy fine southwest cuisine. The fireplace draws me near. The retreat is away - away from the hustle-bustle, day timers, breaking news, book publishing and the sharp edges to create moments of serenity, warmth, and laughter.

It takes one day to unwind from city blues and schedules. I light a candle or two for a blessing. The sound of silence. Tension leaves body and mind.

Deep sleep comes easy. Time to look into the mirror and actually see myself as I am.
Other unspoken intimacies just happen. I just miss the water spa, wet and soothing on a yearning body. I splash in the shower a little longer. Aromatherapy scents the small room.

We do create our own space. The space and time includes a dinner with local friends, which is a joyful event. The space and time includes our message therapist making a house call. Little resistance, just go with the flow. Outdoors, in the morning, we make treks to Foss General Store and sigh some more—buy things we don’t need.

Our five nights gradually expands and expands; I have no other longings. I write early in the morning after smiling at the two students having a pre-dawn java at Higher Grounds coffeeshop. I read more on Wolf 293 Female killed last year and the introduction of the comeback of the wolf in the Colorado. I look at tons of literary agents and sigh... He reads one sc fi after another, perhaps completed two books in four nights. Gibran sits ready for the next read. We search each day for a crossword puzzle for him. Happiness is the funnies and a morning crossword puzzle.

I forget where I am. I no longer have To Do lists. I’m asked, What are we doing today? I reply, The same as yesterday. It’s the only answer for now.

Nancy Vorkink


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Poem Edited: Friday, July 23, 2010


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