I have been so quiet of late with my writing group. Then the
reminder from Steve – “You are the prompter,” and phrases float
through my mind. I had just copied Beth’s prompts of the previous
week, thinking, these are juicy little things. Now I sit again at my
computer, utilitarian nightgown on, hair thatched, tummy a little
queasy, and look at some of the phrases I tossed out this week –
brain crust reformed.
I am exploring silence, but saw that in a book. This phrase gave me a queenly – slight edge of the wrist movement – wave. Hey what about
arrest motion for I am quieter, more stopped because viruses of the
virulent kind have touched down upon California. Last week I
stumbled through. Now I must remember to stop, put a period in,
perhaps a recalcitrant comma. You know the drill.
What happened last year or several years ago when Bill and I house
sat an incredibly lovely condo on Lake in Pasadena? I remember
thinking about our beloved landlord, that I would pleat the moon for
him. Where do these images come from? I don’t know, and now
yesterday I thought, nice phrases to throw in for prompts, and if I
were really a sincere person (it’s questionable), for anyone I loved,I’d iron the stars and fold the rain into nice sheets, perfectlyedged and folded, the way my husband’s mom, Anna, trained her first born to do the laundry.
It all sounds so much easier this laundry detail rather than paying
attention to the cacophony of voices on the news with each pundit
giving his, her opinion, adding to the lace doilies of opinions,
crocheting to the sky, the endless tracking in threads, minute and
large, of the politicians and how they play.
The crocodiles are still in, and that’s why I suggested dental twine
for crocodiles, a good business to go into. Our world is not ready
for integrity, but the people hunger for ingathering, and a
groundswell is seen beyond race, color, a thirst for a hayride to a
cliff where Rhetoric in the form of old straw gets thrown over a
canyon and naught can be heard but an encouraging word, “ack” and
life goes on.
So here we are in Act XXIV of the Decline and Fall, and yet, new
forces emerge. Thank goodness for the anonymous amongst us, who
continue to live with goodwill and integrity and above all, courage
to forge through and know in reality, we are all one, different,
blessedly so, but one. And this, these words are my offerings for
the paper – pure and white, after the poem.
Lyricism and grit, it’s all a dance.