An empty note pummels the silence and fills this room.
Outside there are women pushing strollers
A man cuts his grass.
Another note; higher, and the thought of tomorrow
is inflated and rests on my shoulders.
The clouds move swiftly and the sun smears its
light upon them. It rains lightly.
Another note; higher, and the despair of a lost garden
and chipped trim pulls at me like a little hand.
My window is filthy.
I should go outside and fix these things.
Another note; lower, and my son looks at me
finger resting on the key
to see if I'm paying attention.
When it's time for me to pull the weed trimmer out of the gloomy shed in the corner of the back yard, the smile runs away from my face as I double check to make sure that my yard shoes are tied properly.
__________________
I don't know where the sunbeams end
And the starlights begin
It's all a mystery
This is crisp. I can feel the idle tension building, rearing back the sling, weighing down the catapult, the last breath to be held before submerging under. . . . Hope all is well reign.