December 5
My Most Important Meal
Sweet potato pudding sits on the plate; I sit in my place
and wield my spoon until the plate is clean.
I’m fed, my day begins. If this
is the best part of my day, life is still sweet and fine. Time skips its way through and I meet and
greet the splendid and the few. Picking
my way, the raindrops step aside; I am gratified, though I never mind the
rain. When the mud has settled and my
bed calls me home; I look back to the start of the day and pray to begin the next
one the very same way.
Look for your eyes in a crowd
*
WATER PROOF
What could water prove anyway?
I get in the water and I get wet.
I’m sure there is a theorem
But a proof is highly doubtful.
Naiads dance with tridents in their hands
Illustrating the beauty and danger of the waves
But this certifies nothing.
Juiceless arid dirt can make no claims either
I see ducks take flight
Pushing the air with their wings
And rivulets trailing from webs.
This is the thing to scoot beneath at the surface,
Take sustenance and pleasure
but never to become so saturated that the air is lost.
Waterproof, is the way to go.
What could water prove anyway?
I get in the water and I get wet.
I’m sure there is a theorem
But a proof is highly doubtful.
Naiads dance with tridents in their hands
Illustrating the beauty and danger of the waves
But this certifies nothing.
Juiceless arid dirt can make no claims either
I see ducks take flight
Pushing the air with their wings
And rivulets trailing from webs.
This is the thing to scoot beneath at the surface,
Take sustenance and pleasure
but never to become so saturated that the air is lost.
Waterproof, is the way to go.
You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to
Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
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