Angst Rules

Photo by Jordyn Dickens on Unsplash

Time has stopped. The stars can’t sweep away the black smudges, the sprinklers pulse all night. I have no recollection of what’s happened and can’t imagine what’s to come. Living in the moment is a torture.

I cross step through the lagging poppies on my way to the hose bib. It’s not a clear path. We encourage the poppies because in spring they take over the walkway and their gold carpet either invites visitors to share in their splendor or the timid ones go around not wanting to disturb the display.

After the poppies shed their seeds for next year I’ll pull them out and fling open our welcome to the outside world. For a time though we revel in the mixed message of do you dare/ do you not cross what this poppy field imparts.

There is a night bird calling. Earlier today I told my doctor I’m numb, flat and I’ve quit crying.

“What does this mean?”

“Never look ahead or behind.”

Suspension comes to mind. When will I fall? Will I?

The paradox next morning; I go out to repeat, rinse, repeat and here are two

Photo by Garrett Hayes on Unsplash

fawns, spots aglow. We are silent.

Eye to eye.

“Pure fawn visitors, be well, grow strong on this beautiful summer morning.”