Untitled (but suggestions welcome)

one lane bridge, charlottesville

“Note to self:  It’s not the future that you’re afraid of.  It’s fear of repeating the past that makes you anxious.

Keep going forward.” ~ me. 30 Aug, 2014.

Originally posted elsewhere (with a different image) a couple years ago today, it is fresh and bright this morning.

Alone in the house with things that hum.  Overhead kitchen fluorescents, the behind-mesh light over the stove, the refrigerator (which also bubbles and clicks as does the old coffeemaker on the counter behind my leaning).

artful decay, old hotplate.

The thermostat spring makes a small ‘boing’ in the hotplate under the glass carafe, which is burnt and chip-peeling away in non-stick tectonic plates of char.  *click.electric hum.spring.sigh* keeping the eighth pot warm.  An insult, really, to its constant effort as the mug I use is too big for the slow speed and neglectful sipping pace; it is only warm on the first taste.  When I remember I’m having coffee, it has cooled, considerably.

ridiculously large mug vs regular sized mug

Hot coffee is for those who consume it with quick need and refill frequently.  My speed?  Sloth-like, almost passive, consumption.  I will nurse this large, cooling mug through several cycles of the pot’s reheating yet never pour a ‘heater’ splash until the cup is empty.

Slow coffee, easy enjoyment, quiet speechless morning.  I am filled in this moment, happy in this place, hearing the neighbor’s lawn being tended; my dirty fawn furred dog giving herself a loud, slurping bath on her dirty fawn furred bed of the rec room sofa.

The mower downshifts to neutral.  In our tall grass and weedery, the cicada chorus rises. The pot clicks and warms as I pull supper ingredients from the larder.

Again, in this moment – a word whose center stands an ‘omen’ – joy rushes in and quiets the ghosts of guilt and pleasure.

hums the omen:  allow, allow, allow all this joy.

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