A life of leisure, one with no responsibilities,
an endless holiday – surely we’re all dreaming of it?
Yet how long before it becomes a life screaming with pointlessness?
A life of leisure, one with no responsibilities,
an endless holiday – surely we’re all dreaming of it?
Yet how long before it becomes a life screaming with pointlessness?
my friend and I agree
the Phantom would surely
be a great reader (even
in the jungle) – knowing:
fictional / real, he lives
The small cat dreams
through the afternoon,
making tiny throat sounds
as if calling, or perhaps
greeting someone (me?)
A day in January.
Celebration? Or remembering
invasion —
and all the horrors that followed.
Why can’t we change the date?
*
I emerge
from my left brain
to gaze up
at a hill of vines
pouring over the fence
The library reminds me
those books are coming due.
OK – this afternoon
turns into a banquet:
gorging poetry.
My card for today
is Queen of Cups.
Does it signify me
(water sign woman)
or the damp day outside?
This one didn't happen today, but is a recollection from a few days ago while my son was still here:
My visiting son drives me home.
‘Careful of the little boys,’ I say
as their scooters edge onto the street –
not mentioning how they remind me
of him and his little brother long ago.
when the day cools
the little boys across the street
ride their scooters
up and down their driveway
watched by their mum – and me