Turning 52 in a language other than my own


I’m practising birthday in Slovak

and Hungarian – narodeniny, születésnap

it’s much more of a celebration this way,

a dance that involves my whole mouth.


The weather report is

clouds giving way to sun


My mid-life (hair) crisis is over;

four colours in as many days

only to end (happily) where I started,

an existentialist freewheeling mess.


I like my new apron so much

I’m tempted to wear it

to the restaurant but won’t.

Maybe when I turn 62 ?


I take a quiz and am told

my spirit animal is

the butterfly,

the hummingbird,

or the owl

which could explain the itch

between my shoulder blades,

why my long life feels like

a collage

of many shorter ones

and why no one seems to notice

when I fly over the bridge

as the clouds give way

to the rising sun …