That’s Life
Drips of time slide by
leaving nothing on my soul
I follow the streams down
looking for the exit
chaos movement in theory
an orderly life on surface
a spark still flickering
holding onto the last ember
losing its color
turning gray
fading into ash
Trusting Soul
He keeps his eyes closed
expecting that whatever
is there will go on
A Day Like Others
They went to the library
because three new books were on hold,
ready for pick up
and they’d finished six books
so they needed to be returned.
Then they walked around town,
enjoying the mild spring day,
before deciding to go to the Co-op.
Because it’d been so long.
While they were there,
they picked up sandwiches,
chips,
and locally baked pastries.
Then walked back up to the car
and got a library book each,
and walked through the breeze in the park’s sun and shade
until they found a picnic table.
Whereupon they sat,
eating and reading in silence
until two hours later,
when she said,
“I’m cold. Let’s go home.”
The Animal Update
“Hold your horses,”
A little bird told me,
grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“A fly on the wall says,
he used to drink like a fish,
but he’s gone cold turkey.
Now he’s happy as a clam
though lazy as a dog.
Busy as a bee
feathering his nest.
As cute as a bug’s ear
in his cat’s pyjamas,
mad as a hatter,
but quiet as a mouse,
maybe because the cat got his tongue.”
I always thought him the cat’s meow,
sly as a fox
but crazy as a loon,
a night owl willing to party
until the cows come home.
Michael Seidel, writer 