After The Chrysalis

After The Chrysalis

There are no better errands on Saturday morning
than stopping by the Pick & Shovel to buy lag bolts
and swinging by your favorite coffee shop, ordering
a slice or two of their Mediterranean quiche before
picking up six bags of river rock, a month’s worth
of Torsemide or Eliquis or whatever medications
the doctor makes you ingest on a daily basis, or
whatever else your wife tells you to go out and buy,
even if it means you have to give up your quietude
and your homebrewed coffee, even if you have to
drive all the way to St. Johnsbury just to seek out
the perfect copper-clad hardware for the shutters,
especially if it means you end up waiting an hour
while the baker’s busy beating eggs, slicing Swiss,
and kneading the quiche’s perfectly flaky crust.

Nothing’s more perfect than a sundrenched Saturday’s
window seat at Montgomery’s, hearing your favorite
oldies on the overhead speakers, eavesdropping
on all the other eavesdropping suncatchers,
giving thanks that there’s not enough crowd to
make it feel crowded, but that it’s empty enough
to gently remind you just how empty empty can be.

Poets And Storytellers United
Writers’ Pantry #71

poets and storytell

11 thoughts on “After The Chrysalis

  1. “eavesdropping
    on all the other eavesdropping suncatchers,”

    also reminding one that your are definitely not alone in this
    Happy Sunday

    much love…

  2. This is lovely….You”ve got it all….your life is rich with coffee quiche hardware and a bossy wife….Win Win situation

  3. Written like a traveler who has reached the age of contentment, forgiving himself for what he might have done better and knowing he did the best he knew how at the time. Welcome, fellow traveler. Our pleasures are small, our contentment is great!

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