Sit Awhile

Sit and rock.

The day's cares

float away on the fall wind.

The pace slows and

hassles are

hushed

by the hum of

late afternoon insects 

and the rhythmic creak

of the rocking chairs.

the fall

leaves flicker on the birch in
secret communion with the September breeze

geese flock to the quarry
their boisterous babbling carrying through
the late afternoon

children draped in sweaters
are sent the out to play in the browning grass,
sun glinting off their imaginary swords
and suits of armor

raspberries ripen

bees lumber past
dying brown eyed susans and the
days shrink
succumbing finally to the fall
constellations

Change

People pass away or move
out of our lives.
Careers end and hobbies
start.
Finances ebb and flow.
Children grow
and leave and distance
becomes the norm.
Lovers become roommates
and spring becomes fall.
All that's certain in life
is change.

GIDEON

Gideon growled happily. There was a time, in a previous life, when happiness would make him laugh, but he barely remembered those days. Today he sat still as stone watching children play as the day’s light dimmed to dusk. He admired their energy and abandon. He could never venture out of his shell that way. 

Distant notes plucked from a guitar drifted past, evoking pale memories of his younger self wooing a lovely lady. He remembered the breeze toying with her hair and the way she lifted her hand to her mouth when she laughed. And when she touched him he lit up as though a thousand suns were burning within him. 

When she agreed to become his wife he rejoiced. The entire village was invited to share their joy. And when they later learned that they had begotten a baby, there was no limit to their happiness.

As the birth drew near and the pain grew worse, his wife assured him that she loved him and that all would be well. But alas, she died, as did the child, leaving Gideon alone.

There was no comfort for him in anything. He grew quieter and quieter, stiller and stiller. After a while he ceased to move or speak at all, a thick protective wall slowly growing to encase him. And he never laughed again.  

Now, here he sits, able only to watch and hear life being lived, joy but a seldom seen memory. And he growls in what he thinks is happiness.

Inspired by this photo taken by Brin Jackson.

The Monster in the Basement

Color spreads across the east. Birds call and fog hugs the hill outside the window. She tries not to think of the monster in the basement. 

He first arrived nearly four years ago at her naïve invitation. He was broken and she would provide him temporary refuge to heal. Slowly he grew in his monstrous power, tacitly controlling everything about her.

He would rise, roaring and ranting, if she inadvertently disturbed his sleep at any time of day. (We all know that monsters can’t keep regular human hours.) While she tried to tip toe through her home it sounded to him like the footfalls of stampeding elephants. 

Slowly she curtailed her social engagements, no longer hosting her friends for movie night or prayer. Neighbors and friends called to enquire about her safety and well-being, but she would say she was fine.

He would eat her food, but would not deign to dine with her. Perhaps he couldn’t bear the light of her kitchen and her concern.

After a while, things began to disappear. A gadget. A gold coin. Her medication. Her late husband’s wedding ring and the 50^th wedding anniversary gift – a diamond ring. Her own wedding ring. And the edges of her sanity because the monster feigned innocence and intimated she must have simply misplaced them.

Finally her health disappeared as well, borne away by the burden of stress and uncertainty. Her heart was broken and she had no choice left.

Her coffee now cold and the sky grey with threatening rain, she contemplates how she might evict the monster, her own, her son, from his basement throne.