I sit here on a Saturday

The holiest day of all the days

But it’s just too hot to go outside

I sit under the fan

Moving top speed

Just like my life used to do

Now I just sit here

With the dachshund tucked beside me

She never frets about anything much

Other than if she’ll be lucky and get

Three meals today

Instead of her benevolent two

I allow the quiet to envelop me

Just the sounds of the air rushing by

I could sit and enjoy or I could let out a sigh

Or I could mold here and seep in some anger

The latter seems so devoid of anything beautiful

I’d rather just sit and be bored

I’ve given up on the things that bring meaning to life

A new home, a new job, a new Ford

These just bring more complex chaos to me

I’d rather go for a walk with the trees

I’d rather go for a talk with the birds leading the way

I’d rather sit in the grass on my knees

I could write a great poem

I could write it for you

Or I could simply write the love lyrics for me

I could bury the paper in a small bottled glass

And hope the seekers will seek on a spree

I hope they find the weaved message and label me star

Of course I’ll be long gone, a black hole that’s dead

They could just simply laugh, then toss and discard

To seek glory and glamour instead

I sat down right here to be next to the dog

She whines when she’s here all alone

I write this to take the place of my whine

Simply glad that my heart is not stone

Thus might be my great, grand attempt

8/15/20 kdc


2 Comments Add yours

  1. A gorgeous meditation on an eternal question. As you say, that particularly male trait of anger, seeking imperfections, and rejection (which I know too well) is not the way, rather have your “love lyrics” in the heart. Always a pleasure to get lost in your work.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks so much, Steve. Glad you enjoyed it 🙂 🙂 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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