Sunday, October 4, 2009

looking back on a sunday evening

peep 3

it's the way tiredness too often wins out over laughter on a friday night,
or how the weekend starts off with a kiss on the forehead an hour too early.
it was the purchase of the non-essential golden mums or the pumpkin
or the gourds i forget to buy every other year while they,
even tonight, sit on the windowsill, in a bowl, one will make its way to work in the morning.

it's the way the clouds made way for moonlight last night at an autumn party where i was the stranger. the way the host accidentally drank from my beer and how his wife handed me a napkin to wipe off the lip. it was the way i slipped the bottle from my fingers and let it roll into the trash when no one was looking.

it's the simple things, like leaves blown right before the fish is done,
or the smell that banana and chocolate make when mixed into muffins.
it's the sound of two keypads, while two sets of fingers madly click and stop.
deleting back and forth in a kind of conversation.

it's the way the dog licks the couch and curls up with a bone near my leg, her movements a kind of mellowing comfort. the way my leg lays atop the other, bare feet when the whether promised a chill.

the weekend began with yawns and that quiet sense that time must be slowed, lest we forget and move too fast for feet and hands. i am ending it in the same way. yawning in the early evening, the sky is already black and we are quiet in our house together. we sit and read and type and stew. thinking back on history and looking toward next friday night, when we return to our home, to the uninterrupted days together where night and day mingle in lights and longing for more.

a balance must be found, between the muffin eaten with fingers on the way to work, to the ice water sipped before bed. those hours in between, the balance between dawn and dusk. that is the struggle.


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