Every year on my birthday, I write a poem. This year, I decided to pair those words with a series of self-portraits. I’m so grateful for this space and for everyone who stops by to read. If any of these words or images resonate with you, please let me know—I’d love to hear from you. I’m so glad you’re here.

49

Within my freckled chest lie
sheets of watercolor paper over
saturated and weak in the middle
where I pressed too hard, bending
into rainbow shapes. My hips

tell of this separation, of forty-nine
years of horses, dogs, babies, troubles
sat propped against bones, praying
understanding will expose fragmented
shadows, pockets of light. Tomorrow

another sunrise, pink fog touching
horizon, hot coffee sweetened just
right with words now said instead 
of swallowed whole. White-crested waves
wake the birds, and the tide-pull aches

in every corner. See clouds
reflect upon the sand, soft starfish
clinging to crag-born rock, green flashes
flinty like my eyes. Look for it, keep tracing 
thumb over back of hand. This time

next time
another time
all time.

• A little note about self-portraits: I took these using my tripod and the timer on my camera. It did not occur to me (until I was done) to use Auto mode, so I kept trying to get in the focus point, hence the mixed results here. I think it works for this set, but if anyone has tips on self-portrait photography, I’d love to hear them.
• These were taken with my Olympus E-M1 MarkII, using various lenses and edited with Lightroom Classic