the morning is dark, cotton-candy fog hanging over the city. through the fog, lights glow. well and truly entranced, i inhale the sweet air. someone is burning pine. as i get in the car, i wish you were here.
there's a thorn on the rose you left in a vase. it's as sharp as it looks. jabbed my finger on the prickle trimming the stem. new water, and done. there's a card i have yet to read. maybe later - i hope you will stay.
freshly-boiled water swirls into the teacup, heating the thin porcelain from the first teaspoon. the water clouds over with tea releasing a faint scent into the air above. on the tray in front, a plate of biscuits await. later, the morning has warmed and the tea is forgotten, left to go stone-cold amidst the busyness… Continue reading tea-time
flames flicker in the fireplace, slow to start - paper is quick to ignite, but there's no staying power. there's just lots of potential. by the hearth, a cat curls up, warming its paws on rough-hewn stone flooring. domesticated for now, and back to wild mischief soon. (and you, under the sunlight, with… Continue reading wild + domesticated + soil
delicate pink shells are scattered across the sand - shatter in one step. condensation beads on the glass bottle as the sun beats down on us. wind whips sand up as greedy-eyed birds appear. (food's less edible).
the roots of the tree jut out, rib-like below the pavement that it is bending out of shape. above, the concrete is rough, cracked, torn. there's wisdom to be seen in the sprawl of the branches, if one just knows where to look. (it's etched into the tree, watching countless bypassers) a fine… Continue reading roots + wisdom + grit
seventeen chapters through, and the doorbell goes off: almost irate now. tall stack of books by the bed keep you amused at any time of day. various capers run through the pages, until the book is closed; done.
solidly sheltered, inside, as the wind whistles through the window-frame. against a backdrop of dark walls, a wisp of steam floats up. the tea is well-brewed this time, and feels like being content. inside, the fireplace crackles, emitting a faint scent of burnt sugar. the blanket over the back of the couch is… Continue reading shelter + contentment + natty
if you please, she says. coy. she ruffles her hair and flutters her eyelids. don't tease, she scolds. stern. she twists around, angles her body just so, and scowls. she tenses, her whole body stiff with annoyance. anger; detonates.
i dream of goals, place them in the parameters of my mind - watch them. leave them to gather rust and dust, visit rarely and dull. when they are achieved time to mark them off, take down the signifiers and move swiftly on. no looking back yet; no making time for regret. have… Continue reading dream + achieved + qualms