2003/steeping

My breakfast rice
waits in the pan,
a kind of steeping.
A cool October morning
but probably not for long,
the mid-day sun still too bright.
I hurry back from errands,
the shades down, curtains drawn,
something I’ve always hated,
but do to survive the heat.
Life feels like that these days,
in the trenches just trying to survive.
I make a list of things I want,
another of things I love,
and then don’t have the heart
to read either.
I look for easy accomplishments
to balance the scales,
go out for tea,
to the post office box which is empty,
to pick up the shoe repair
that was supposed to be ready yesterday,
leave my silk top for another cleaners
to rectify the mistake the last one made.
Later I will tell you that today
from the sofa to the bedroom
felt like travel.

10/16/03