Where We Are

neither I sit;
restless I tremble.

water’s silence
spring parades

in the shade-cast room
behind glass veiled curtain

I, road of forgotten
dreaming fingers

where we are

I opened the door  today.  One thing at a time.

Brush teeth. Shower.  Beauty in simple tasks not so easy.

Dishes.  Food.  Water.  Bird song and a bee.

This is where we are.  When your world is turned upside down, what do you?

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower