Reverse Psychology

Having given myself permission
to not write
the words don’t spill any more easily

Having given myself permission
to despair
the sodden emptiness doesn’t evaporate
with the rising sun and rose-colored framing

Having given myself permission
to keep my thoughts tied like old letters in a box

Having given myself permission
to stick to what I know
I find the cat has run up the tree
into the highest thin branches
of the thankfully not-too-tall redbud

but I would still need a ladder
and stretched arms and faith