12 2 18 another Sunday poem

No one cooked me food or lunch or anything today but I asked the kids to write out christmas lists

at the grocery store,

I bought everything but forgot plastic wrap and paper napkins

and          my garmin app reminds

me that on Sunday my steps drop off – we’ve noticed a pattern

(says the algorithm)

suggests parking farther from buildings, or trying some stairs, even

if it’s your Rest Day

DB tells me I see absence more than

Presence

I think

this is another way of telling

me that

I am too negative

Response: I can feel the darkness falling on me

This is my way of saying

that

the negative space is eating up Everything Else     Am I ?

the only one to see

its gaping mouth?

The Everything Else is two girls spooning brownie batter

studded with chocolate chips into holiday patterned cupcake papers

two boys crouching down

attempting to coax Prince the Sleek Black Bunny into playing with

a giant multicolored slinky

reminiscent of sherbet in summer

assorted mugs on the table – dregs of tea or coffee –

and short glasses holding each an inch and a half of milk (undrunk

and left

in exchange for fun)

the teapot screaming

Char’s highlighters lay haphazard but mostly side by side

in an oblong wooden bowl

next to a single clementine blooming spots of

brown around the

navel

children occupy the bulk of the kitchen

and crumble Ramen noodles into bowls

“Be careful with the hot water,” I hear myself call out, on instinct

An unconventional friend says he has been thinking about

what it means to be alone, and making peace with that …

but i’m in love in a forbidden way

In 10 minutes, we’ll be off for the next activity, but I haven’t finished

my tea.