Category Archives: stream of consciousness

before I left work
the temperature dropped
a good twenty degrees
in a fit and frenzy of a storm.

one hand smiled content in
a pocket while
the other called “home”
on speed dial.

walking, kicking leaves
blown down nonchalant
restless corners
yellow brown and dying

my mom talked about Christmas
and I talked about my cat
and with a “say hi to dad”
I hung up.

watching the color drain
as the fall slips a sulking hand
into winter’s firm grip and follows
until my skin pales around
veins blue, icing up
the backs of my hands and wrist —
it is the blood leaving the heart.

only takes a handful
of grain tossed,
with that film of dust
settling into the life line on
your right hand,
for them all to come —

where they land and peck
in short calculated bursts
is living room to a woman
whose wellworn face
has the hard lines of a beak.