Porch Time
She's my shrink sometimes, I swear--
her porch her office furnished for two
with kitchen-table chairs re-suited for Fridays at noon.
Brought nothing but my tea mug, and me;
pens and books will still be there--
work will await my return.
Never just doing nothing these days.
Not sure how that happened--
not so sure how friendship happened.
For this reason, there's plenty to mention--
to figure out how life has and will happen--
watching cars race by instead of among them.
The congenial creek caused by our shifting weight and
changes in topic seem to harmonize the breeze
sounding slow and easy--
still sipping my one cup of Irish Breakfast Tea
laced now with prospect.
Almost three hours in. I didn't know I had muscle tension,
before a moment free from time and movement
together. Free to be weak--but only for a moment.
The cars flying up and down the street are waiting
to race me--I must face them.
But not right now. At three 'o clock I will.
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