Confines of freedom

I think it is easy to focus on what we don*t have, instead of what we do.  I cannot drive and find I am settled back into this.  Even though there is a car in the driveway, parked under the mulberry tree, its windshield coated in mulberry juice, I have come to think of it as a driveway prop.   It is blessedly quiet at home.  There is space here to think and write, and contemplate the boundaries of who and what and how I am to serve.  Here freedom is confined.  

Today I am home.

My daughter attends

A three day concert.

My husband is at work.

Tonight he attends

An evening

Men-only

Barbeque.

Today it is me and the cat

And the turtle.

Today the confines of freedom

Allow me to write

To think

To walk when it*s cooler.

There is a chipmunk in back.

He lives under the planter.

I do not have to share the house

With birds.

The boundaries,

The confines

 Of freedom

Are expansive enough.

Were I here a thousand days,

It seems

I could not

Exhaust them.