So Quiet

Can it be? Another Friday has come roaring up ... or whooshing ... or whatever it is that Fridays do as they push the other days out of their way.

I can remember when Friday seemed such a distant goal ... that glimmering image dimly seen on the horizon ... beyond which lay the oasis known as the weekend.

Now TGIF comes zipping along with frightening regularity.

A couple of watercolor lessons ... attending a poetry reading (last night) ... sitting in on another poetry reading (tonight) ... and there we are ... the weekend.

Time for me to get cracking ... I've got miles to go ... and a computer printer to feed ... another installment of "Squiggles and Giggles" to put to bed ... and maybe some even more serious chores ... if I find time to look around.

Meanwhile, another poem from Hollyhocks, my second collection, published by Finishing Line Press last year.

I think it pretty well tells its own story, about a visit we paid to Thomas (our grandson) and his parents, when he was young ... a very young adventurer then:

SO QUIET

The house was so quiet

this morning when I walked

down the hallway that I

could hear the clock ticking,

thought I heard tired fireflies

grumping softly to themselves

somewhere outside, searching

the grass for acool place

to spend the day, the cicadas

climbing their leafy green trees,

almost humming to themselves

in their happiness, thought I

heard Thomas breathing peacefully

in his bed, still dreaming about

that dump truck he and Grandma

kept filling and emptying, sand

tickling their bare feet, and I

couldn't help smiling at myself

looking back from the mirror,

ready to clap my hands and dance.

© 2001

(received a third place award in a ByLine competition; now part of "Hollyhocks," my second collection of poems, scheduled to be released later this year by Finishing Line Press)

***

Today's word: grumping

Afterthoughts ... in response to your comments:

I appreciate your persistence, Hechan ... I'm never quite sure what happens when messages simply disappear like that. Your second try definitely came through ... and I'm glad you like the photo. I don't recall exactly where I snapped it ... but it did strike me as a particularly peaceful spot, and I'm glad I captured it. And thanks for those kind words about the poem, too.

I know what you mean, Marti ... and many thanks for stopping by again. Best wishes.

Thank you, Featheredpines, for saying so much with: "The thoughts we have in quiet moments when the rest of the world is asleep ... "