Freewrite V

Out front, morning skids across the rain slick at its low angle – silver lining on the street. Squint, the doubt in blinders. The garbage goes to the curb, a thunder in a white sky, and at the top of the stairs, the door unlocks with a click. In your room, a fan’s hum muffles my sound on the linoleum in the kitchen, the suck of the refrigerator door, the clank of a glass against the counter and water pouring from the pitcher.

Out the back window, a sharp angle, the roof’s shadow on the proud arborvitae’s. They’re frosted up three-quarters their height and gold-tipped for the rest, as the sun has crested the house. There is home here, but day waits for no one, and here I am contained.

Now the pendulum sun is warm and at the bird bath. There is one taking its turn, and one cockeyed, impatient on the lip, with five more on the hill behind, drying and dried.

19 thoughts on “Freewrite V

  1. Loved every word of it. Though poetry goes way above my dense head, it could perceive the beuty in your words.
    Loved particularly these:
    -Morning skids across the rain
    -There is home here, and here i am contained
    -Pendulum Sun is warm and at bird bath

  2. Love your imagery, sensory descriptives, and elegant phrasing, especially, “morning skids across the rain slick”, and “pendulum sun” . Your writing has a sophistication that appeals to me, and your art and photography are wonderful. ~ Julie

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