An Empty Day

I snuggle in the warm, clean sheets of routine and sigh to myself, "ah! an empty day to count the colorful threads of my blessings to court and woo the many happinesses that are my life. Thought this life doesn't give me sexy black-lace stockings filled with wiry–healthy limbs, straight, happy toes, fertile, hilly arches, the crafty spry silence of bending knees, I can always leave them locked in their closets and plant myself in the whirleygigs, corkscrews and madness of life, know that I belong, to hear the flowers sing their arias to the sky. When darkness shadows my heart and I hunger for sunshine to veil peoples' plastic stares and all their wasted time, My landscape is lit up painted by the innocent giggles of a grandchild's play through heady fields of bright flowers, My imagined empty day brims with the joy of practice in creating our symphony of two. © 4/12/2013, Vivienne Lund