A reflection written at 5 in the afternoon

Too much to fit into a reflection.  Too much to separate out.  I will start again tomorrow... earlier.  Much earlier.

A reflection written

At 5 in the afternoon

Bears no comparison

To those written

With a hot cup of coffee

In hand,

The sun sliding golden

On the living room carpet.

A reflection written now

Carries almost the whole of the day

Within it

Worded

Or not.

The sun slants

Toward evening

At the back of the house.

The conversations of the day

Include the easy and the hard

And a whole lot

Of things

Which defy

Any category.       

They remain to be seen,

Remain to be understood

Heck

Some even remain

Just outside my hearing.

La la la

I sing,

My hands over my ears.

I have enough to consider

For now.

Stray understanding

My husband and I spent last night sitting with the parents of a daughter*s friend, helping to oversee a teenage birthday party.  We had never met them before.  They invited us to join them. Interesting people.  They were not what we expected.  But then, I suspect, we were not what they expected, either.

None of us fit

Into our respective categories.

I rather like that.

No matter who we meet,

He is different,

She is different

Than we originally thought.

We have to start somewhere

Of course

But

The thought changes from the original

With every different thing.

The thought is fuelled

By new possibilities.

The thought is almost ambushed

By stray understanding.

It hides around the corner,

Then jumps in front of us,

Adds action to the picture

We thought

Was a still.

I say

Thank God none of us fit

Into those single categories.

I rather like that.