I am in no hurry
to pack my things
because staying is a malapropism
and there is always room in the tarpits
if you don’t mind swimming slowly.
.
A turn of phrase, of cheek, of light
bending through water
is magic, non-weaponized
and as stoic as a conifer in March
watching over sleepy hills.
.
Let’s dress up
for a 100-year-old picnic
where we can spell croquet
as we play
and tread lightly over whatever’s broken.
.
More tea
and it’s time for a new hour
with the same crickets on parade
though this time I’ll harmonize
humbly yet grand.
.
(title credited to my son)
The Word Rummager 
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