I have been circling the wagons. Still am. But it is a sunny nearly 70 degree Friday in December, a week before the semester ends and I feel itchy to do something creative--something other than teach and prep and grade essays. So I am going to take a moment...
It has be a hard, strange, year. But one full of changes for the better I think. All of the hurdles are not behind me/us, but now I feel like they are not insurmountable. This place we have moved to is so different from where we were before on so many levels. I love having a new(er) clean house and not having to worry when I go to draw a bath whether or not I will have to chase some creature out before I can put the stopper in. I like not having to check the bed for centipedes and of course I love being able to flush. Fifteen years of an indoor outhouse was enough. I will try to never take these small things for granted.
This has no connection really with the random sentiments above, but maybe that is OK.
Random is the order of the day.
Rising Steam
If I took you in my hands
would you melt,
like clear ice in sunlight?
If I touch you
would you disappear,
like frost on leaves and limbs at sunrise?
or
would you fade
like the haze and smoke when
skies turn blue?
Would you go
like the clouds, lifting away?
Leaving me alone,
with cold, white snow and
bitter frozen ground.
Very old, very random--but slightly edited and thus my creative itch is temporarily
scratched.
