The dainty cat-lapping of kefir from a cornflower blue saucer on the front step (I have renamed the fuzzy babies though: Little One, Dear One, and Pretty One. It's just what I end up calling them. Such is a name.)
Much rustling of leaves and tinkling of wind chimes. A different wind is blowing out there, one that's going to bring some drama into the atmosphere.
Crickets.
Creaking of the wood floor.
SMELL
The collard greens with garlic and chile I made for dinner. Made a mountain of them on my plate and ate every last leaf.
TASTE
The tart, sweet, loud-crunchy Honeycrisp apple I just had for dessert.
TOUCH
Rust under my fingernails and a blister forming from my new tin snips. No pain, no gain.
SIGHT
Front door open, orange glow of street light, long shadows of sauntering felines, graceful in the way they paint the asphalt with inky shapes. Wait, now they're chasing the unruly leaves, crinkly and haphazard, enough to drive a cat wild. What funny critters.
FOR GOOD MEASURE
The song that knocked me sideways tonight while out on a walk was this one. I can't comprehend fully how Neko can be so gifted with words, not to mention melody. She touches nerves right and left. Here's the title track from Middle Cyclone.
Can't give up actin' tough,
it's all that I'm made of.Can't scrape together quite enough
to ride the bus to the outskirts
of the fact that I need love...
...It was so clear to me
that it was almost invisible.
I lie across the path waiting,
just for a chance to be a spiderweb
trapped in your lashes.
For that, I would trade you my empire for ashes.
But I choke it back, how much I need love...
that it was almost invisible.
I lie across the path waiting,
just for a chance to be a spiderweb
trapped in your lashes.
For that, I would trade you my empire for ashes.
But I choke it back, how much I need love...
