Wednesday, March 4, 2015

A Sunday Night

The day has melted into this blur of movement
Circling around the building
Life demands me in small gestures.
Her shoes in the middle of the floor

The quiet niggling songs of faraway things are
Fighting with the hum of the refrigerator,
The rattling of radiators, the shuddering
 of rigid pipes inside the walls of this old house.

Trash goes out tonight, weather permitting
I take the plastic waterbottles to the curb
Break the melting ice from the bin, thankful
For this small grace - take the detritus of
my selfishness away from this place.

I used to imagine my next life, bright and
Free, when I was young and wedded to a

Vision of what I thought my life had to be.

I'm working up some stuff to read at the next MAC Poetry night.  
Any feedback you feel like giving is appreciated.  

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