A little thing

Tuesday evening

It gets colder now with the setting of the sun in these shrinking days.
I wish I could tell you my needs are met sharing tales around tables.
There is a joy in it; some part of me lights up, relaxes into comfort in unusual camaraderie.
I promise to be happy enough with such companions as present themselves in my days.
Happy enough living in a place where I cannot find my space, but no one is cruel.
Taking my biweekly check, weekly budgeted amount, stretching it toward getting me where I need to go.
I listen to a lament, grateful for the hope that stands guarding me from the need for such expression, for I have hope, water-borne, even as the days get shorter.

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A story started itself last night. I will enter that later today I think. I sort of know where it wants to go, but it doesn’t want me to be complacent, so it is a bit of a tease in terms of going anywhere. Then again, some of my stories never seem to go anywhere. This one actually knows where it wants to go; it just wants to unfold toward that place slowly. (I think.) Happy Wednesday.

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To the woman with the ocean in her eyes

My head tilts involuntarily
when I call on my imagination to deliver
the vision of you
so that I may gaze into the mysterious
depth and openness of your eyes

My hand must be held back
by dint of conscious effort
because it would cradle your imagined face
so gently and so present
my lips tremble to softly kiss you

May I gaze for hours into your soul
the beauty of it
loosened from the constraints of
everyone else’s comfort
as you breathe in my love of all you are