My Cardboard Balcony

So. Kind of a lousy end to the week, mostly because of my health. I kind of lost my voice due to a cold, so I had to take one and a half days off of work because I wasn't willing to completely throw my voice out teaching my students. I never thought I'd say this, but I actually missed working. It's weird to stay at home on a weekday because at first you think it's wonderful and you'll have so much to do and so much free time to enjoy, when in the end, you feel like you have too much free time and you're just sitting at your computer re-checking Tumblr for the tenth time in an hour. But what do I know. Maybe I've been sucked into the vortex of the 5-day work week, and I'm now a pawn of the system and can't accept that a day away is a day of creative freedom that doesn't need to be swallowed up by social media and blatant consumerism! Oh, who am I kidding. I just use time to think too much. And thinking too much causes the side effect of anxiety.

Soles by Belinda Roddie   The man wore old, brown shoes. One pair was all he owned. He had none in reds or blacks or blues, No sneakers, boots with buckles grand To leave noble prints where one used to stand. One pair was all he needed, One pair of shoes alone. The man wore old, brown shoes. One’s sole was coming off, But soul and spirit it could not lose On any road to Rome or Spain, Each hill and field laid thick with grain. One pair was all he needed To trek each dale and loft. The man wore old, brown shoes – He did not look much better, All whipped and lashed by winds enthused And cloaked in relics of the path That led to hard and gruesome tasks. Yet one pair was unfleeting. Yes, one pair for the weather. The man wore old, brown shoes Until he passed to twilight. His eyes of blue were quite subdued With a final peace worth waiting for, And at the sound of the boatman’s horn, The dark shoreline receding, One pair led m

With a loud roar, the lion pounced at the bars where Bobby stood, wide-eyed, the ice cream dripping in brown ribbons down the sleeve of his striped shirt. The boy did not flinch or scream, instead staring down the aggressive feline with a mixed sense of calm and awe. "Bobby!" I heard my husband shout. "Step back!" The lion tried to stick its paw through its cage to swipe at our son, but he still did not move. Instead, he placed his palm on the big cat's furry pad.