Last night I dreamt of yard sales and marble statues, a baseball coach who was a sore loser and some rushing water, like Niagara Falls in the middle of the street. This morning I stood and scooped coffee into the well, my hair too long, a short notice from an old friend in my head, the stealth of fall in New York City, that gray bite of the sidewalk. Past, present, future. When I reached for the sugar on the highest shelf, I might have gone there, the past, I might have caught the tail of long ago love and my small children, peals of laughter and shreds of melancholy, but I let it swim by, pulled the sugar down and stirred it into my coffee.
You write so beautifully and poetically! A morning treat to find this...
ReplyDeleteI love this! It perfectly captures the emotional dream hangover.
ReplyDeleteDreamy and gorgeous and powerful.
ReplyDeleteYou shine a light on the tiniest moment and make it make it reveal its true radiance.
ReplyDeleteThat little paragraph has set my whole day up to be so much better than it ever could have been without it. A sterling bit of writing!
xxxooo this post.
ReplyDeleteI sometimes have those moments too - it would be tempting too swim in the memories of the past for too long. Beautiful, Elizabeth.
ReplyDeletesimply love your words.
ReplyDeleteSo elegantly written.
ReplyDeletehave i told you how much i LOVE YOU????? Always in awe..
ReplyDeletewe honor the chosen life. it does not mean the roads not taken don't still beckon in the tiny fractions of time when we reach for the sugar on a high shelf. i've been thinking on this a lot in my own life. you made it poetry.
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