walking into a house
after riding in the dark
words strewn across the car
banging against the windows.
that lasts in one’s memory.
the eve that is pregnant
of the morning to come
with hopeful white
and assorted packages under
after the chaos dies down
with the blur of black boots
and red holly sweaters–
the quietness of the house
with familiarity packed into
rooms of my youth
what part i make of this mad race
why i smile
when my heart was fullest
in the glow of the candles
in the old pine-floored sanctuary
faces alight with joy and singing
praising the Christ
hope and eventual
as usual we are having a wonderful time in st. louis–hosted by the lovely kj. wine and spaghetti to come. nebraska tomorrow.
dear man at the grocery store driving a station wagon who yelled “hey, lady”and did the “come-hither-cause-i-am-hot-stuff” eye brow lift,
you will not find a woman by yelling at them while they are carrying groceries.
perhaps if you helped them carry the groceries…
pajama pant wearing women are not suggesting they are in need of a bed.
they are probably just tired or too lazy to get dressed. or both.
the “eyebrow” lift did not and will not convince a woman to drop her groceries and jump in your station wagon…
unless you’re joseph gordon-levitt or ryan gosling. (you did not hear that from me).
straggly naval-long beards are not usually a turn-on…
unless you are a dwarf woman or gandalf’s wife.
despite all that i have said, thanks for the compliment…
definitely wasn’t feeling sexy today.
till next time-