Saturday, September 14, 2013

Me and the prayer shawl

I am here in my prayer chair, my writing chair, the chair I bought over 23 years ago now.  The cat is sound asleep on the bag I use to collect the CSA vegetables every Wednesday.  I make sure to return it to the exact same spot between vegetable collections.  It holds the heat of the sun during the week.  I am not sure how the shoes appeared in this poem, except that they are part of the picture.  I may complain about my daughter*s pile next to the front door.  My pile is behind the bedroom closet door.  Yes, we are related.

Me and a prayer shawl
In the blue chair,
Next to the cat,
Asleep in the sun.
He sleeps
On top of the vegetable bag.
It couldn*t be better.
I know this place at home.
The pile of shoes
Beside the front door
Has grown.
All the shoes belong
To my daughter.
My pile lives
In the closet upstairs.

Me with the prayer shawl.
The cat.
My beloved sleeps
Upstairs,
Next to the closet
With my shoes
Piled
Not so neatly.
Most likely
It could not be better.
It is sufficient.
It is good enough
The way it is.

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