Contradictions
Today, so briefly snowed that
a wafery white crisp descended
over the wooden deck.
Outside, the dog was chasing the rabbit
but soon he came back
stamping a trail of magic white paint
on the rug.
Inside, I’m painting too,
but sage-green sunroom walls,
trying to recreate a much warmer and humid place.
Now the dog in content sleeps,
surely dreaming of the rabbit,
the cold and the feathery snow.
Looking at him, I stop.
I’m not painting, not dreaming,
not walking in the cold.
I’m just surprised of my own contradictions,
examining myself,
going back and forth.
2 responses to “Contradictions”
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I enjoyed reading your thoughts on paper. My husband with MDS had a similar work ethic – never totally happy unless he had a “project.” He became a poet and wrote a lot about his long two-cancers journey. It is so comforting to have his poems now that he is gone. He lived 8.75 years post SCT, leaving at age 80.
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Dear Janice,
Thank you for sharing. The love of your husband is still with you in his words. What a treasure to have!
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