You are currently browsing the monthly archive for November 2007.
Windows at Lord &
Taylor gleam with holiday
scenes. Small worlds of joy
The heart of the world.
Like fireworks that never fade
explosions of light.
Bryant Park transformed,
craft booths shine with baubles, lit
from within with smiles
Off to NYC
tomorrow. Garmin riding
shotgun. Can’t get lost.
My daughters watch the
Gilmour Girls non-stop, wishing
I were Lorelei.
Oprah and Barack
sit in a tree, campaign for
the Presidency.
HGTV shows
designer homes while I nest
in my own clutter.
To eat or not to
eat? My stomach says yes, my
hips scream don’t you dare.
Should I say what I
feel, or what attracts readers?
Tempting to sell out.
I keep coming to
post like a lover checking
for text messages.
Silence erases
thoughts and stress like dry markers
wiped clean from white boards.
I really should start
dinner. But husband’s gone, so
I’ll just blog and starve.
Kmart opens at
4am. Outlet mall at
midnight. Who needs sleep?
Post-tryptophan, we
watch Forrest Gump and digest
the day’s memories.
Don’t count calories.
Savor silken pumpkin, tart
cranberries. Taste joy.
Tempting smells – so strong
they nearly satiate the
appetite – drift by.
We are all in search
of the quote that defines us.
Self in sentence form.
Why this ache, an itch
no hand can scratch, a splinter
no tweezer can pull?
Times like these, a hot
cup of tea, a soft blanket
is all that’s needed.
A blowtorch melting
a block of ice from within,
pain made transparent.
They’ll watch football. We’ll
cook. Men and women. Hunters
and gatherers still.
Accomplishment is
a relative term. You live,
breathe, think. That’s enough.
Like a cracked eggshell,
once broken it cannot be
redeemed nor reforged.
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