a_long_division.md
@@ -8,24 +8,32 @@ fenced stillness of a winter-gray morning.
Color, sleeping since fall, made it's stand
against the season in the bright yellow
plastic and chains of a wooden playset
plastic and chains of a cedar playset
unused yet swinging in invisible
wind where the lot stopped and the field began.
The new year had come and brought with it the
things that new years bring–new books new money
new television new recordings of
things that new years bring–new books, new money
new television, new recordings of
new people with new and rambling lists of
things to do or never to do again.
(Insert stanza dealing with contentment)
Yet there in the kitchen before breakfast
with morning spilling through me note by note
I could feel some forked version of myself
whose thought though distant still twisted in mine
things to do or never to do again.
It, the new year, also brought time to mind.
Time, which tends to pool at the start of years
among scraps of thought and holiday fat–
Time, evident in the long beard and grease
stained pajammas that told tales of bacon–
Then time in its own context turned itself
from the cold now of the new year to a
faint image caught in a silverless glass.
My refelection perhaps? Though not of me
it was me. Connected yet not the same.
Yes, there in the kitchen, before breakfast,
with morning spilling through me note by note,
I could see some forked version of myself
whose thought, while distant, seemed twisted in mine
like white milk swirling in dark black coffee.
As I was looking forward to the new
@@ -36,26 +44,3 @@ fog of memory and thought and dream like
a fault in time both present and remote.
SCRAPS----->
The two of us stood there
looking out through sliding glass
only just now becoming aware
of each other.
We lived two of many worlds
impossible and unknowable
and cosmically remote. Yet we were
THERE(|) together alone with only images
for communication. Impressions,
a shared qualia
so fine
so particular
yet not necessarily solitary
a current along some unidentifiable field.
The coffee was ready.
One drip, one press
one dark, one blonde
one mug, one cup
one milk
one sugar.