Elbows and a Kettle
Elbows on the desk,
hands shoved against eyes,
knuckles pressed into their corners.
You know how it is:
you’re thinking, facing the screen.
Pondering, trying to meditate, excogitate.
Where is it? Where was it?
It was in my mind a moment ago.
It’s gone, my brain has lost it.
I even ask what it was.
The kettle boiled, whistled.
A letter hit my mailbox.
A car screeched to a stop out there.
A fly buzzed about my head.
Elbows, hands, knuckles,
thoughts, ponder, meditation;
brain plays with thoughts.
Then kettle, mailbox, brakes, that damned fly.
(Posted 7 Aug 2024)
Copyright © Andrew John | Year Posted 2024
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