Life’s Little Misdirections 🥀🦋

about wanting to share life with her...

Can you follow this?

I run to the river, bright gushing,
receeding on banks delivering
smallest offspring, fuzzy.
They follow mother, but
you don't follow me
to the bench in mellow sun.

Patient. I must be patient.
They leave on a stream,
paddle soft, obedient, glide
unlike me, awkward straining
to see what's so important
that you can't come
to this trough, drink in
images I hoped you'd see,
that we could share together.

Trees hang low on this path.
You follow now, paces behind.
I point to this or that.

I've been wondering, what if
you stopped noticing
me.
I'm not small, fuzzy,
gliding
but sinking in muck
sucking my shoes to shore.

Can't get close enough
to capture one image
satisfactory enough for you, for
‘Ah, that's nice.'

You know the sun fades.
Air chills early in spring.
No jacket, you turn back
at earliest dusk when
molecules somehow absorb
twilight-soothing-aura.

Who can I choose to share
tiny little moments,
not as important as messages
with tiny images’ gleam
on a palmed instrument?

I think it's time to go home.
I want to be alone,
not to look at distraction,
but hide in reeds
from a world that needs
undivided attention.

Dishes, laundry, clean bathroom
and ready to mow the lawn
all summer long, without you
on the stoop, gazing inward.
You don't see me sweat without
someone to know my devotion
and need of return.


10.12.23