Tuesday, March 22, 2011

3/22/11


Mount Sidney, VA

Today I learned to
when I see a leaf
brown, crackled
with thousands of lines
interwoven like a spider web
of aged leather
but more fragile
black spots bore through
like burns
folded over
bent into awkward positions
but still holding up
against the elements
strong
but fragile
broken
but whole

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Huntsville, AL


My couch isn't the best quality.
The lamps are from a yard sale.
The end tables are family heirlooms,
given to me from my Grandmother.
And the painting, my mother did not have room for it.
She gave it to me.
I'm not sure if it's really my style.
I haven't pinpointed what my style really is.
I've never had the money to buy what I want.
My friend wanted me to take a picture of my apartment.
I've avoided this for two months.

This is the couch I sit on when I feed my baby,
and when I watch American Idol.
I'm just happy it's mine.
It will all have to do for now.

***********************************************************************************


Los Angeles, CA

I just read this article on Hilary Clinton, where
she said she loves to clean out cupboards; she finds
solace in having a task with a distinct
beginning, middle, and end.

I thought I would play Hilary for awhile and tackle a shelf,
one that gets more full every time I go to the store
because I have begun to collect teas in the same way
that some people collect stamps or magnets
from foreign countries, or how our mothers collected spoons.

Every morning I open this cupboard and rummage, wondering what treat
I am going to impart upon myself today. This simple
ritual has become a comfort: a mad-tea-party-ginger-peach-green-sencha-sweetened
blend of memories inside each canister.

And now I can see them all.

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