Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Disasters, Delights and Other Detours - 55. Dirty Laundry and Weather
Dirty Laundry
I feel as if I carry life
balanced precariously,
like unruly armloads of laundry
too long neglected and too much to bear
through long corridors and
descending steep steel staircases;
far too frequently,
a stray sock or battered buttondown,
a torn tee-shirt, or, god forbid, underwear,
fall as frayed fragments of my existence,
marking the downward journey of my days
to my neighbors.
Facing Morning
I hate him,
the man I know too well,
that one who meets me in the mirror
every single morning,
with that stupid, hopeful expression on his face,
as if a good night’s sleep
and strong coffee
can change his life
and my world.
Weather Pattern
The wind shifted overnight
waking me to a bank of grey clouds
scurrying away southeast,
taking sorrowed rain and worry’s oppressive humidity with them,
leaving clear crystal-blue laughter overhead,
and radiant hope shining
through uplifted branches,
glinting on scattered beads of sadness
left on leaves yellow with autumn’s first color,
while mint blossoms and Michaelmas daisies nod
with the cheerful gossip of busy bumblebees,
until the wind shifts again.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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