Her joy will eventually emerge
like a single blade of grass slicing
through slowly melting snow.
Winter’s frost patterns adorn memories
of fond summers and soft falls
but her joy is starting to emerge.
Like velvet pussy willows bravely standing
in a pool of spring sunshine,
back to the wind, she emerges.
Strong, serene, one with the world,
at peace within her skin,
she emerges. Her joy emerges.
Well, I’m thinking it looks a lot tidier in here now.
Maybe
You sound doubtful. Look around, the decks have been pretty much
cleared and everything is squared away.
This is a brain, not a battleship.
Same difference.
Have you looked in there?
The closet?
Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’re going to fall for the old “I cleaned my room by stuffing everything into the closet” routine?
Really? You think she just stuffed everything in there?
Do you want to open the door?
Not anymore, I don’t.
Look, all I’m saying is she may not be finished yet. I don’t think we should put the battleship…. I mean the brain, into full service until we’re sure.
So, what, a couple more weeks?
Yeah, at least. And maybe we should drop off a few more of those big orange trash bags. It might encourage her to clean out the closet.
#200
My Brain – Part I
My Brain – Part II
My Brain – Part III
My Brain – Part IV
Linda Studley 