I took a stroll through the shelves today.
row upon row of book hedges.
Paused to trim a little from this one
and a smidgeon from that.
Decided to make a concerted effort on the health thing
too much inactivity, too much complacency
too much fatigue, too little motivation.
Pricked my finger on a thorn.
Browsed through the leather bound journals
mostly just to feel the covers and smell the earth.
Snagged two poetry books
just because it was drizzling outside.
(Billy for me, because I like him
Wisly for you, because of you.)
Swung by the coffee shop,
because it's a coffee shop kind of day.
The kids are off doing their social teen things.
I am once again on my own.
When it pours, I'll watch Vantage Point
the heavy rhythm on the A/C raising the tension.
And later, when it is over,
when I am bored channel surfing
I'll open my books
perhaps with candles lit
and a glass of chardonnay
perhaps with a good bar of chocolate
light jazz in the background
perhaps because I have nowhere else to go
and no other place to be
or perhaps because I am exactly where,
for now, I should be.