Saturday

Brown potatoes
round
(he let me pick
the perfect ones)

from the farmer’s market
down the street

and firm
red apples
the kind you know
will taste
(once you bite into them)
exactly as they do
in your mind

you walk home
with these
and other treasures

spend some time
reading that book
that you’ve meant
to finish
for years now

you get into
the shower
lazily
luxuriously
telling yourself
you will take time

because it’s Saturday
and you never take time
and today is about
taking your time

but you stop short
halfway through
soap in your eyes

you realize
you have been humming

and you laugh
(something you do
about as often
as you hum)

In your bathrobe after
you run to the desk
to write down
the poem that
came to you then
naked
and soapy
and laughing
like a song

You plan to make lunch
(and you will take time)
you’re excited about the
newest recipe you’ll attempt

thanks to the things
you decided to buy
on a whim
this morning
at the farmers market

You wonder
if you’ll stop short
(knife in hand)
as you cut potatoes
and chop up apples
suddenly laughing
because you realize
you have been humming.
~1/24/15

Advertisements
Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s