There’s a chill in the air
Along the road that leads me
home to the river
Raucous jays and crows
Scream at each other
Without a message that matters
Noisy cars take the quickest
Route to the freeway
Fuming their way through lazy detours
Happiness isn’t on the rise
Neither is patience or understanding
Or ears willing to stop and listen
Still, my heart is at peace
Knowing my end is sooner
Rather than later
Body and heart melt with relief
Releasing things I no longer need
To prove that I was here
I’m not there yet. I am, however, shifting gears yet again. Letting go of things that weigh me down. Things like more books, more unused kitchen utensils, more old clothes, and (especially) the amount I can do in any one day.
My health is (so I’m told) excellent “for my age.” A loaded message, indeed. My feet would not agree with this cheery news. Still, I don’t have any reason to complain—except when I’ve done myself in or feel particularly lonely. A strange experience for an introvert.
The photo at the top, taken this morning, has nothing to do with this post. Except for this.
Every day of his relatively short cat-life, Smudge just keeps going. Purring. Practicing his ‘race up the stairs and tear around the corner in hunt mode’ moves. Playing in a favorite cardboard box. Sitting on my lap asleep, or stretching out on our bed for a midday snooze.
I want to be so carefree and generally kindhearted, no matter how much I get done. How about you?
Thanks for stopping by!
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 12 May 2021
Photo of Smudge taken by ERFraser, 12 May 2021