Living Room

I thought I had tomorrow-more than one, like petalsfrom an infinite flowerheld in my hand.I thought I had tomorrowfoolishly thinking the chanceswould arise in infinite numberrolling in like wavesagain and again on the shore.But the words-writ at my feet,stayed there, washing awaylike silken sand,crumbling in liquid lines–the words I never said.I meant to say “Thank…

I wanted to write like Annie Dillard away alone aware– not here in the middle of this  city/suburbs life. Leave the concrete and multiplying cars with their inhuman noises, seek a vista, a vale of color and light, to inspire and bring forth words like a flowing brook across quiet pebbles. But I’m here in…

Dust hovers unsettled in sunlight, threatening to land on patterned grains of tables at rest. I observe the suspension of noise, remember the activity: buzzing, rising, howling, softening. The children are gone. It is time to put things in order. Restack the books, ensconce the trinkets to their pride of place, lay out the careful…

Beginning Years and miles evaporate like the morning’s ocean fog where the strong, bright gleam of friendship holds true. Holds true like trees that have weathered decades of sun as we weathered our own wearying waves of life, lapping at the edge of our friendship, threatening to erode the years of tears and laughter, the breaking…

Across the pencils pointed skyward like so many word-wielding swords past the gray and steel of overflowing desks filled with orphaned papers stashed, crumpled askew over the carpet-bland, sturdy, useable home to small and hopeful feet to the doorway–closed. Through it comes life and noise and limbs, any moment now– eager hearts, chattering faces, souls…

No one eats a slice of lemon meringue pie because they’re hungry. There’s no sustenance in golden brown gelatinous spun sugar. No energy to be gained by consuming a butter-laden yellow middle, no food group that would deem this crust of crumbs worthy of a bite. But I consume anyway, my eyes convincing me I…