Jaclynn Loibl

Thank You For Being A Friend

I drop in here like the YouTube yoga instructor so gently reminds me each day in practice. I take it to mean releasing the past, focusing, and tuning into the now. A slight buzz exists in my chest area, it’s tight, so I follow my breath also like she instructs. I pause, breathe three times,Continue reading “Thank You For Being A Friend”

Cart Bangers

I’m in love with one of my ducks, a chocolate milk colored one, that waggles her tail at me after I clean her coop and whistles a sweet tone whenever I come near. She’s twice sat, allowing me to stroke her silky feathers, strengthening our bond. A wise one is she; I’m trekking vegetables outContinue reading “Cart Bangers”

Boss Stage Healing

At recess in 5th, maybe 6th grade, I used to jump rope double-dutch. If you’ve never held your hands up to catch the rhythm of the ropes, rushed into the eye of the slapping lasso, stutter-stepped until panting, then raced out to survive the whip of the cord, you’ve missed quite a thrill, as wellContinue reading “Boss Stage Healing”

We Are Family

It’s a day when loose-leafed trash blusters about the neighborhood. A street light flashes like a red carpet to a rave but is likely nothing more than a wire come undone. I’m wet-headed, a product of a late-night out hot tubbing with friends. I’m nudging myself to unclench muscles and to use frustration and irritationContinue reading “We Are Family”

He Ain’t Heavy

I nag myself away from colorful curtains on Pinterest to write. About what I have yet to find, but like animals to the call of the wild from the open page, I cannot myself deny. I’m in the market for crushed-up oyster shells, their rich calcium content is a need for my duck’s egg production.Continue reading “He Ain’t Heavy”

Cluh Mot Toe

Hoping to coax the hiding vulnerability in myself out, I ask, “What do you want to write about?” I set aside my need for a jaw-dropping, knee-slapping post and sit down cross-legged. Turning down the expectation dial, I lean back and follow the texture on the ceiling, clearing my mind and allowing space to form.Continue reading “Cluh Mot Toe”

Intimacy’s Devilish Dance: A Poem

Shrouded with barbed wire, we trudge the land of the untouchable. Enter At Your Own Risk, the scalding caldrons seem to say, oozing forth with frothing anticipation. A Venus Fly Trap, its tendrils hypnotize and tempt, then snap tight its kill. A funhouse mirror twists the thin to swirly and morphs whispers to screams. AContinue reading “Intimacy’s Devilish Dance: A Poem”

Butterfly In The Sky

How enamoring are butterflies; their vulnerable fluttering, expansive display of color and the jaw-dropping carwash change from dull walkers to acrobatic artists. Cinderella, the Ugly Duckling, She’s All That, and Grease. There’s nothing like a good ol’ transformation from rags to riches or fugly to beautimous that we can’t help but stand and slam ourContinue reading “Butterfly In The Sky”

Mortality’s Knock

I’m building a Leggo block house with extra high walls to prevent monsters, and additional protection is “pew” guns that shoot thorns for the girl and her cat. Three-year-old Evelyn’s imagination is brilliant. Out of practice are my cat whisperer chops, and I’m scrambling to think of how to make my cousin’s cats feel moreContinue reading “Mortality’s Knock”

Singin’ Sweet Songs

“Good golly Miss Molly”, I say wincing my body into a bath of steamy water. I’d get thrown in jail for doing a similar action to a child, but myself? Nah, this is called self-care. At the start of a game of pool, right after the cue ball strikes the top ball, the next twoContinue reading “Singin’ Sweet Songs”