The fog has shellacked
over the warmth felt this morning.
Mist turns to rain.
Along the vinyl canopies
a strip of raised drops form,
solid as brass-studs
on the seams of fancy
upholstered chairs.
I might sew
the torn seams of my coat.
I will not go swimming.
I may take a small nap,
and work on either
my life or my art.
When there is nothing else to do,
I lock the door to pace.
I recall Jesse,
the way he’d walk small circles
in the center of his studio,
head down,
glaring at the wood
as though it might
loosen the floorboards
and release some
slight sigh.
—
Colleen Maynard is a writer and visual artist. She holds a degree from the Kansas City Art Institute and has publications in Monkeybicycle, The Same magazine, and Ceramics: Art and Perception.”
The Zingara Project 