You Get Me
―To my fellow
Northeastern Nebraska Poets
Well, I’m here,
but you get me just as I am.
You get me just
like this.
You get me
hanging on by my fingernails.
By a thread.
Hair bundled in
a high ponytail.
Same clothes I
wore yesterday
(you say, well,
you look comfortable at least)
Moccasins and
last year’s glasses.
My life lately
feels like a game
of Whack-a-Mole
and I’m losing,
the sign on my
mirror at home reminding me
to Roll with
it curled and laughing at me
because I’m
dealing with the unexpected so much
it’s more like
rolling down a hill with no brakes
than just mere occasional
adaptation to a simple hiccup
or two. No
matter.
We gather for
poetry, connect over words
and memories
and laughter and food,
and after, when
it’s time to split the bill
and I say to
the waitress, I’m all alone—
you say Yes,
but we love you anyway—
and you get me
just as I am.
by Julie S.
Paschold
aka Tansy Julie
the Soaring Eagle
10.22.26