Rest

A pang, to see the grasses of late summer

And the dry branches standing ruddy

Under evening light

She reaps harvests from her window

From the pages and the diodes

That bring her the world

A scant three hundred feet square

Where there is nothing to constrain

And everything to own

She discards the weekdays

While dwelling on

Late summer sun

 

Amber

Passion made me its marker

Of swells and sighs divided

Regret the tenderest heresy

And each pulse, a watershed

And yet no arcing, tumbling,

Glittering thing of mine

Could rival hers; I remember

That frisson of the empty sky

That cry from below

Of heart and soul and mind

My summers sleep in amber

And to look at them

Is to remember

~

Elizabeth Cook, 2016. Image from Hyouka.

Carpet Squares

Listless at my habitual 3pm low, and wishing that I could work in a more comfortable position, a change of position, I studied the long space under the underutilized half of my L-shaped desk.

–

I looked at it, and that was to envision explaining myself, which irritated me. It was a perfectly good bit of carpet, shaded and never walked upon. It would fit me nicely if I laid down there to read instead. So why can’t I actually do this?

 –

Open offices are detestable.