Observation - March 1st, 2016, Tuesday

the snow-pack is mostly gone

 

the sky is lightening at six in the morning

     when I leave for work

 

a fresh sheen of frost on the walk

disappearing with the rising sun

 

the green is returning to my lawn

new growth pushing past the pale-yellow

blades still clinging to their roots, past

the sodden gray and brown remnants

of leafy-twigs fallen from the apple tree

 

Kitty follows the cotton-tailed rabbit with her eyes

lucid, and dreaming of the hunt she has been denied

 

Kitty is an indoor cat now

it has been years since she went outside

 

it is election day in Minnesota, caucus day

there is a pensive energy in the air

 

Kitty does not care, she wants to share my chicken

 

 

Sid Gateaux, Zen Syndicate Intergalactic, People’s History Project, The Skein of Days, Big Sugar Buddha, Observation, Reflection, March 1st

Observation - February 1st, 2016, Monday

it is dark outside and I am thinking

the heels of my hands press against the edge of my desk

            the grain of the wood is comforting

fingers arching upward

hover above keyboard

tips striking downward

intermittently

it is dark outside and I am writing

I am writing in the dark about a moment in time

it is 5:45 and I have been awake for hours
drinking coffee sweetened with brown sugar
mentally preparing for the day ahead

my future self like a ghost ahead of me

get up, get dressed and go

but that is not this moment

in this moment I am awake and thinking
watching the moon and the stars outside my window

feeling the world turn on its axis

Observation - January 19th, 2016, Tuesday

the news comes over the television like

    greasy smoke and chatter

a "new" relationship with the Persian’s of Iran

    everything ancient is new again

there is warm coffee on my desk 

    in a tall, hand-painted mug

my tawny-tabby cat is in her routine…watching me

it is four o’clock in the morning, and I am in mine

    I am at my desk...writing

it is chilly in the room, I reach for my hoodie

the radiators come to life, hissing…spitting steam

rising from the cold point in the heating cycle

it is well-below zero in the January morning

the thermostat told the furnace to turn itself on

such small devices, with so few moving parts

you can hardly call them machines...but they are

sensing the temperature, triggering electrons 

flowing along a copper wire down into the dark

    to the asbestos covered octopus

        the monster in my basement 

the flame comes to life, water boiling in the golems belly

steam rises through the pipes like blood through the extremities

    expanding and clanking and whistling through the valves

Kitty takes an interest in the noise

as the radiators warm she turns toward one 

to snuggle, curling up with her cast iron friend