Distractions

Dark toast, marmalade

and strong black tea

make the day take shape.

My grey work groans, encroaches;

on the clock? I hover above it

swooping on sillier thoughts.

The house next door stands still;

crumbs of ivy invade

its buttered cheek.

Through the banister slats

I glimpse a damp cat

testing the strength of cracked tile.

I must remember to feel it again;

what was it?

Something about brain over belly

and marrying action to intention

to action...

After lunch

I visit with the creatures in the walls

and rub my knees, uneasy

when I hear them in my cough.

Microsoft Teams bleeps weakly

and I forget to bleep back.

I know it saved me before;

what was it?

Something about the patterns

flowering on closed eyelids

and the need for pretty imagery

in a bland world...

The bare bones of the beast

I'd seen in the trees at dusk

clatter at the window.

I water my potted plants

and wait for something to work.