Raking


Soon the neighborhood boys will come
knocking on my door, asking me if today
is the day. I've put them off for three
weeks now, ignored their knocks, hidden
behind doors so they couldn't see me,
held my breath so even I would stop
believing I existed. Because they want to rake
my leaves, because they want a little money,
because they come from broken homes,
because they remind me of the lonely
child I was, because they just need to do
something, they frighten me, these boys.
But today I'll answer. I'll go to the potting
shed and dig out two rakes and the leaf
bags from last year. I'll give them an hour
or so of good raking time before I start
the milk for some hot cocoa, and I'll watch
them through the back window so I can
disappear into the shadows of a childhood
I've not quite left behind.



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Sunday morning (coming down) & up

6:57

Wow. Haven't been up this early on a Sunday
in some time. Couldn't lie there in bed any longer.

Maybe because I actually got 5 straight hours of sleep.
That's amazing. That hasn't happened in months
or years. I can't remember when I last slept 5 solid
hours. So, I actually feel rested and ready to go.

Where? Don't know. To make some coffee.

****************************************
8:14 now.

Still no sun. Had my coffee and breakfast.
Read the paper. Did the crossword puzzle and word
jumble. Wrote a poem.

It's so quiet in here.

Wes asleep. Cats asleep.

The only sound the pecking of the keyboard
and the intermittent noise of the processor.

Oh, and the sump pump. I just
heard it. Must have rained some in the night.