rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Rusty Tin Roof

A Sunday of nothing in particular, with quiet hours and mild weather. It was quite a contrast from the night preceding it, when I didn't sleep at all well, restless and waking frequently. I suppose I was too exhausted to get much done, though I did walk over to the Plaza in the late afternoon. There was of course no ride to Safeway. Maybe Monday, maybe Tuesday. In any case, I'm still fairly well exhausted.

The weather might have been pleasant, but it was not invigorating. Tomorrow is the half price sale at the Goodwill store, and a couple of books I've had my eye on might still be there by the time I get there. If not, well, I've got plenty to read. Reading is what I'm going to go do now, since my brain is not much more than fuzz tonight. I certainly hope I can sleep better than I did last night.




Sunday Verse



Apology for Impatience


by Bruce Dawe

Now through all my dreams
Beans, beans are climbing,
Between midnight and morning
Pumpkins flower and the tomato seedlings
Are carefully transplanted;
Lying hunched in the darkness I am solicitous over
All manner of things sprouting
And blossoming. 
                     Even waking
The work goes on, a rainbow
Hovers over my office desk,
In the arc of a garden hose,
And, looking at you,
Life, life cries my blood
Till I am dazed by its sound,
The sound of my thirty-three years
Drumming like a monsoon
On the inadequate tin roof
Of words like these…
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