bird. in mouth

 my cat waits on the balcony. all night he waits. in the mornings he waits. scanning the sky. swishing his tail. one day all of this intense focus and patience will end with a bird. in mouth. 

#katyamills

what the sun was up to

the sun was up and stretching its light across the sky and land. there was a concert on the radio, the vienna philharmonic. i spent the day kicking around the house, my papers and books everywhere. i wrote a couple of cards out by hand and started but could not finish them. i had pale pink paper and ink the color of an oak barrel. it’s not that i don’t have much to say. a winter morning. the sun acts cool. the cats are nosing behind fabric to stay warm. every few hours i stand at the stove preparing coffee or tea. i am hunting around for action in the story. the sun is looking through my window. writing requires patience and every word counts.

25.19

the color red
the heat in my fists
transforms when
i wait it out

what is left?
little heartache
it’s not so bad
come we can live

together

slow

Slow falls like snow. Not pelting just touching and melting. Slow is not weak or worthless or lazy or wasteful. Slow is not what they say in our fast culture USA. Slow takes the time to truly understand. Is seen and sees. Patience. The world doesn’t know what it wants.