I am sitting
at the cafe counter on
the end of my street
listening to people talk
strange bubbling skipping
elliptical poetry
drinking hot chocolate
wishing it was tea
wondering where the day will bring me next
Round about noon
I am biking
down a hill dotted with cherry trees
the wind moves fast behind me
and I'm sailing
yes I'm sailing
down the road to the creek
heading into the sunshine
wondering where the day will bring me next
In the afternoon
I am lounging
in a blanket on the couch
book in hand
I'm flipping through the pages
blurring past the events
of another persons life
smiling at the jests they pose
crying for their sorrow
hearing the lilt of their voices in my ear
and wondering where the day will bring me next
It's the evening
I am lying
on the carpet
by the fire
writing a song
all for myself
stumbling laughing tilty stories
jumbling together in my soul
drinking cold tea
wishing it was hot chocolate
wondering where my life will bring me next
perhaps I shall know
perhaps I will discover
my route, my path
in the morning
in the morning
perhaps I will find you
in the morning
wondering where your day will bring you next
The work of a girl-woman whose sole talents are writing and being lazy.
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Helen