Summer Moon Coffee's
1/4 Moon, hot
those jeans that go with
everything
and always fit
dress them up
dress them down
reliable
chilly air
between season
transitions
Babies,
all cuddly
and squishy
Childhood
no tantrums
no attitude
all fun
Teens
when they
have a good speak
with you day
Adult kids
stopping by
just because
contentment
enough ups
enough downs
to make appreciation
stick
Hey!
Time taps my shoulder
then runs
ready or not,
here I come!
I never liked chasing
people
and time
is worse
people can get
caught
Ha! Ha!
Time laughs
Made ya look!
I stop,
panting
chaos in its wake
as it continues
to barrel ahead
of me
can't
catch
my
breath
It's 8:45 a.m.
7:45 for my body
as if getting rushed through
the weekend door
pushed through it
isn't enough
this time thing
had to happen
today
last night
my body lives in two
time zones
I get to wrestle with
for a week
even though we already
know which
one
wins
hello,
spring
where's the snooze button?
“Typos are very important to all written form. It gives the reader something to look for so they aren’t distracted by the total lack of content in your writing.”
–Randy K. Milholland
Tpyos bother me,
mostly when wen they're
my own mistake,
not anyone else's
although I do
notice them
in porfessional settings,
such as formal publications
online
in a book
an email form
someone important
I take a second look
how did it make it past
editors?
did anyone proofread?
I'm the type who usually
proofreads
most days
including fly
by the seat of
my pints
text messages
and yes,
I resend
revised messages
auto-correct
I HATE it!
Fixes words
that didn't need fixing
and changes the enteir
meaning
is there a name for that?
autocorectos
Adult chore charts Reading logs gone wild Oh brain, why can't you learn to bend a little? If I fill every box every day does that mean I'm suffocating? If I skip a week, two, three, does that mean I'm dead? No. It means I'm too busy, flat out gave up for a bit, went on vacation Too rigid? Perhaps I like to see the ebb and flow of life on paper [I must] take care not to become over dependent on them, after all, am I focusing on checking off little boxes or on the better, bigger things around me? They're a shot in my arm, accountability for (hopefully) doing the right things that are hard to do so I can be better at the ones that matter They're a heartbeat of sorts multicolored messy proof that I'm doing my best at life I've seen interesting ones: meatless Mondays no sugar no booze daily journaling wordle dating no spending devotionals screen time (usually less) social media posts (usually more) Mine remain steady, seems I can't build those [good] habits yet I've tried giving up tracking everything becoming robotic in spewing out my own data my internal algorithm can't seem to compute making me feel like a failure at times I still go back to them proving I can create habits for behaviors I need to change adding challenges through my own volition (like writing for 31 days straight)
of oranges sprinkled with salt sticky sweet juice dribbling down a chin of memories well lived some uneventful bursting with simplicity some saved for savoring later when the mood strikes of time held on an analog clock holding still in good times or bad placeholders for stealing moments to write contemplate create of stories interwoven across miles initiating laughter provoking thoughts ideas resonating with souls unleashing frustration distraction confusion affirming realities and struggles inspiring hope and kindness through shared Words
finds us dodging each other bumping almost shoulder to shoulder stepping over a wet towel or bunched up pajamas if it's a bad morning, we'll argue if it's a good morning, we'll argue a little less "clean up the toothpaste worms from the sink" I remind her for the hundredth time "I KNOW!" she snatches the brush before I can get to it so I plug in the hair dryer instead I decide to let the exasperation and tone roll off not. worth. it. I wear my thick-skinned fur coat 24/7 grit my teeth, breathe in, breathe out and carry on with my morning "this eye looks good but why is this eye just NOT working?!" a white washcloth smudges off a crooked layer of eyeliner along with a few tears she doesn't want me to see I lean in, mascara wand trying to make some magic happen for my own eyes I don't have time to smudge it off "how? how can you put on mascara without opening your mouth?" I continue applying my face she continues applying hers, sneaking a glance at my expertise with a mascara wand "I've been doing this longer than you've been alive" she leans in with her own wand mouth wide open satisfied, she steps back I look at our reflection and try not to think about the days I braided her hair in front of this mirror and she'd want to help with my makeup
wafted toward me this morning out of nowhere empty street no kids playing backyards seemed bare, still from where did this little bubble appear without others trailing behind? one shimmery rainbow glistening bubble floating in the air is it Glinda coming to pay me a visit grant me some wishes? promise I won’t cheat no asking for three more wishes but seriously, here I am a grown woman looking for Glinda the Good Witch in her puffy pink ball gown crowned in her sparkling tiara waving that magic wand contemplating three hopeful wishes that floated along in a single bubble until somewhere it popped
It's spring today Had to double check A brightening sun teases me through the window as I write It's still cold outside, but it doesn't have winter's bite I'm cutting short my morning puttering Got a lot done yesterday so I could enjoy the whole of today I typically get the Sunday blues on Saturday night lamenting a long list of Still Needs To Get Done Before Monday Back to work Monday A back to work rain in the forecast Monday Today, I'm going out to play with a spring in my step a taste for the end of May
The 'tween is helping with dinner burgers Hubster is cooking I'm playing with a craft project Clean-up is mine for tonight A chunk of lettuce flies from 'tween's hands and the discussion quickly goes to the three second rule "I didn't see that" I say, "It's okay," 'tween says "the wet pieces may or may not have been on the floor, it's not like someone's feet were there and we don't talk about Bruno..." Noooo! not that song again! I've had some bubbly today, I don't care dinner is cooked it's spring break I had friend time this afternoon I'll skip the lettuce It's still spring break and I'm trying not to care too much Life goes on with or without lettuce on a burger
Nerds Beget Nerds 