the world is getting smaller
(or perhaps I am willing it to be smaller)
mornings are a
flurry of welcome coffee and
cat miaouws
needing attention
I hate to leave the calm warmth of
deep lounge chairs
and opened curtains
I hate to ignore the call
to write and dream
and to walk beneath some dancing leaves...
ultimately
to impress is
so yesterday
so somebody's measure
so not mine
yet
I keep a small place
behind the facade
of workplace demands
protocols and fads
to love
as I have always loved
teaching teenagers
yes
I feel the smallness of my paradise
in autumn
