Midlife

My feet have been planted firmly for a decade now

Married, two kids, same job, same address

I made peace with my hair and my dress size long ago

Found a consistent bedtime and a morning routine

Learned to make adult friends—the kind who don’t live or work just down the hall

Perfected my chocolate chip cookie recipe

Bought stationary that suits me and learned to say “thank you” and “I’m sorry” and “I’m sad with you” in cursive

My feet have been planted firmly

But nothing is still

I keep thinking about Pangea

The first half felt so cohesive, arranged, ordered

But midlife is all continental drift

Gradual separation from landforms and labels

Coastal erosion and shifting plates

I go to sleep in one hemisphere and wake up in another

And wonder how long I’d been making my way there

and what I left behind

and what’s here to be discovered

and whether there will ever be a new map

that orients me to my life.