Five households have to dump our garbage here.
At times abuse can dig beneath my skin,
especially at move-out time of year
or Yule, which is the tide that we’re now in.
Today I lift the lid and see – oh dear,
a mass of bags and cardboard fill the bin.
Recyclable, compostable – a drag.
I move it, but I note the neighbor’s tag.
On Christmas Day, midday, I traveled east,
from company and glee to solitude.
I felt the love but, still, to be released,
released in me sweet thanks quite unpursued.
The sky shone blue although the chance increased
for storm. I walked the empty streets and viewed
with pleasure solo legs to my domain.
Ten minutes home, the heavens loosed hard rain.
It seems to energize her to declare.
Assertion and contention are her way,
at least with me – and I suspect it’s fair
assuming that with others, she will say
as strongly, and excuse herself, that there
is reason – she’s a character. But hey –
her loud mistakes give neither of us joy.
My caring calls do little but annoy.
Eschewing added sugar years ago,
occasions come when I partake a bit.
For birthdays, and within December’s glow,
confections are not inappropriate.
This week my inventory’s exquisite.
Although I’m rich I won’t rush it away –
I used to binge but that’s a bane I quit;
I’ll savor one piece, every other day.
I slept more solidly last night, and rose
without a dream to recollect, I thought.
But starting coffee hearing drizzle throws
at me a memory of ants, that brought
suggestion from my slumber: many rows
of formicary messengers that sought
my light and warmth. This vision I recall,
and then remove one spider from a wall.
The raptor’s nest, I’m thinking, signals me,
while transiting the deck. My eyes ingest
on leafless branches what appears to be
the raptor’s nest.
Too high for squirrels, hawkish squawks attest
to presence in my home vicinity.
On some occasions I see soars in quest
of calories to nurture progeny.
Today I gather evidence I’m blessed
with noble neighbors. I’m that glad to see
the raptor’s nest.
On Saturday the Cottage Club made chains
of paper for our holiday decor.
We taped and draped in spots in both domains,
and chatted while we worked. The tree for sure,
three windows, and considered even more,
for we’ve some hundreds still, to deck the hall
and set across the lintel of each door,
but we won’t decorate the picture wall.
A text this morning bothered me a bit.
My internet provider made no sense.
Their information seemed inaccurate,
but my reaction registered too tense.
And then the transit home moved slowly hence;
again I felt perturbed by no big deal.
I dosed with patience and intelligence.
Relieved amusement’s now becoming real.
At 9 pm, a sense of pressure tight
across my chest, as if there were a band
around my torso, cued my oversight –
attempting to find cause and understand,
concerned at my advancing age it might
betoken heart attack. I swiftly scanned
the prior day – that heavy bag I toted.
Surprise. Relief. Humility is noted.
Your brain as a receiver could dispense
with several filters, now you’re fully grown.
Perhaps the interventions make you tense,
and though noetics aren’t nearly known,
a subtle alteration makes some sense –
a renovation deep within the bone
may modify your pathways and give pause
to pain and panic from an untold cause.
 | sputterpub on About Mom, With Love |
 | groomie on About Mom, With Love |
| sputterpub on No Blocks |
 | Caleb Cheruiyot on No Blocks |
| sputterpub on For Now |
Sputterpub's Blog 