Take a seat. Close your eyes. Feel that breeze on the back of your neck from the open window. Hear the sparrows, robins, orioles, and finches sing. Smell the faint aroma of the lit candle. Taste the remnant of an over-easy egg and toasted everything bagel with the spread of unsalted butter.
Thoughts arise. Let them. The poem you want to write. Should you head to Home Depot and Staples in the morning or after lunch? What about that Subaru Service appointment for those recalls? Will you type up that journal of handwritten poems? Or market the typed ones?
Breathe. Feel the seat you’ve taken. Let the real one come: You’re alone. There’s no company now. Facebook posts aren’t enough.
Sit with that nameless fear and unrelenting drive. Keep your seat. Breathe. Keep your seat.
the mantle clock