Soon Day

  
A potpourri day of flying bits propelled by a plump sleep’s spell

like a witches incantation, eye of newt mixed with chicken broth,

a bought book long-sought no right-minded would buy on a no frills schedule–

and budget,

a leisurely dine on organic inspiration packaged in creativity’s cellophane–

a culinary conversion,

the bonding built on a daughter’s refined gustatory and intellectual tastes–

a car-ride, stool-side, angular conversation,

a juggle of pockets: dream, work, Rx, plan, execution, to-do, and vitamin D.

Promise pokes a gut-tickle brain as runners aglow recounting prayers of pause rush by. 

Anchor’s a Weight

An anchor rests upon my left foot, 
center of the crown atop metatarsals 
while the shank steels up to my knee 
to measure the length of tibial boxes.

 

  
Its weight causes a limp in my walk.
  

 

Anchoring my bones,
it weighs against my walking away
and ties me to the hull 
where I see pass by
ocean life abounding 
color and coral free waves 
of undulating weed and water
to please my senses five.
  
Though tethered to a ship,
I am free to enjoy, observe,
swimming gleefully 
in surging seas.
  
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