29.11.10

Puzzle, Part XXI


Those moments of beauty that strike you just as you walk into them
A back door left open in Autumn with no fear of entering mosquitoes
A lover's eyes open in the morning, waiting for yours
Sun hitting the house plants you had taken for granted
The clunk into first as Dad senses the light will turn green
A wet highway, an evening in early November
The glow of lamps through the windows of strange houses
Feet that squelch on snow-wet pant cuffs, the cold from the open door
falls down the stairs


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20.11.10

Tip


When your parents work nights,
yours is a house of stillness and silence
The hum of the refrigerator and the flushing of the toilet are the only acceptable 
outbursts
The house is always November
the in between month
with barren trees and mouldy leaves
with gray skies
and silence
 
tending to your stillness


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17.11.10

The Reminder


The manic shifts between the beauty of reality as a photograph
I can see it, but I don't
feel it
to putting down The Cinnamon Peeler and to breathe Ondaatje


Sitting dazed on the toilet,
overwhelmed by the natural poetry
of the laminate floor tile
toothbrush and hand towel
the whole world as a painting waiting to be repainted
waiting for you to pick up the brush


Weeping over your canvas
the bathroom sink
So happy this feeling has come back to you

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