Worn
springs give gently
and I am lost
in the big green chair
Feet barely brushing the beige
carpet, I point my big toe
with the care of a ballerina
just to know it is still there
Grandma’s sun-kissed iced tea chilling
my hand
I twirl the cup
and the ice cubes dance
tinging softly against green glass
The meaningless lives of “The Bold and the Beautiful”
fill the air
Grandma
moves rhythmically on the NordicTrack
trying to achieve that unattainable
size six of years past
“Oh fiddle faddle,” she huffs
as Veronica takes Cole back
for the fifth time
A summer honeybee darts
across the room
let in by some careless cousin
it comes towards me sewing the air
It’s BLT day
I think
I’ll take
a nap
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