Friday night,
still got my coat on.
And my scarf.
The lamp in the living room.
The street lights.
My computer.
The fridge,
hum.
Phone blinks.
Does the lower east side ever
turn off?
And then
Friday night,
still got my coat on.
And my scarf.
The lamp in the living room.
The street lights.
My computer.
The fridge,
hum.
Phone blinks.
Does the lower east side ever
turn off?
Amy Leigh Cutler 
There are times when I have left my house and walked deliberately into the woods nearby (scene of two body-dumps following murders). My goal has been to find a spot where the trees shield me from sound and light, and where I can look up and see stars. If I look long enough, I could swear that they have moved. Then I notice that a meteor passes, or a satellite, or a plane, and I think even the universe is never on less than tickover, let alone the human world.
Poem much appreciated, thank you.
M
_______
Marie Marshall
writer/poet/editor/blogger
Scotland
http://kvennarad.wordpress.com
I love this. These tiny moments are so intimate, like a close conversation with a sibling in a dark vacant dining room. But they must be captured just right, and you have.