Slowing Down

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Slowing Down 

Electricity runs through my veins. 
It courses in waves,
from my head to my feet, 
and back. 
Why? 
Because I am ever, 
waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
I heard the first one, 
but there are nearly always two. 

Big mistakes made in ways that seemed planned. 
Fallen marks from goals, turned upside down. 
Who is watching the fish, 
in the bowl, 
on the cabinet, 
by the desk... 
where the water is red, not blue? 
There is no air to breathe. 

Stopped up sections, 
plumbers called out. 
But no one remembers how to use... a wrench. 
They can barely spell the word, 
much less design, 
and somehow make a new one, 
to replace the old... 
that is;... 
should the first-ever become broken, 
in its or our lifetime. 

Buses come by this way. 
They are yellow and green. 
That is not the color of the country, 
no, nor the city or state. 
It is just the color of the metal.
They ran out of the other colors, 
and were making do. 

Flowers are growing now, 
beside the road. 
I want that job. 
The spreading of seeds, 
that make a difference, 
to all the picture postcards. 
We should go somewhere... 
at least once in our lives. 

Fateful... thoughts, 
too many coats, 
not enough socks, 
and there are guests coming for dinner. 
They are all sad and empty, 
but they will be remembered. 

Looking backward is useless. 
Tomorrow will take care of itself, 
but only if we pay attention to today. 
Look up and sing, 
the birds on wing will hear you. 
Don't be afraid. 
There is still, one important thing. 
A treasure, a token, 
nothing that is broken. 
Let that whatever it is...
be part of your life, 
but not all of it. 

Gaze up unto heaven...  smile, 
laugh like a child, 
even when there is...
no more blue in the sky.
Fill in the missing lines, 
between the darkness and the light, 
long enough to climb to the moon. 
You are nearly where you need to be.  
Keep trying!



A. Foster, Ann Foster, Annette Foster

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