Tag: whimsy
-
The Thought I Lost On the Way to the Kettle
I had a thought worth keeping,sharp enough to write down,but somewhere between standing upand deciding I deserved a cup of teait slipped out a side door in my mind.By the time the kettle clicked on,all I could rememberwas that it had felt importantin the way small things sometimes dobefore steam and habitcarry them off.
-
March is a Threshold
March hangs between seasonslike a door left ajar,letting winter mutterand spring clear its throat. The ground softens reluctantly,still feeling the cold,still unsure whetherto trust the light. But something in the air shifts;a quiet insistence,a pulse beneath the soil,and you feel the worldleaning forward.
-
The Second Before
There’s a second,just one,when the lights go downand the theatre tenses.The chatter folds,the velvet breathes,and I sit in the darknot as a person,but as a pause. Alone,not lonely;just suspended,like a held notebefore the overture dares to begin. In that second,I am every audiencethat ever waitedto be moved. Then the music starts,and the worldremembers how to…
-
Watching Hands
They speak without sound: the small grammar of fingers,nouns folded into palms, verbs scored along knuckles.A thumb hesitates like a question; a wrist flick is punctuation.Hands remember how to mend; they know the route to a bandage. I watch the map of someone’s day traced in flour and ink and keys,the quiet economy of a…
-
February, Lightheaded
February wakes up earlyand forgets its shoes.It tiptoes across the calendarin mismatched socks of drizzle and sun. The days are small animals,skittering out from under the bed,blinking at the sudden light. Clouds practice new shapes:a teapot, a startled goose,something that might be a dragonif you squint with conviction. Rain falls in polite applause,as if congratulating…
Weather In My Ribs 