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Notes found on the refrigerator…April 17,18, 2020

18 Apr

April 17, 2020

i have no place to be going to

and with no hurry to get there

it seems, i have been here before.

 

there is no place to go

other than where i was going.

i am caged within the parameters

of whom i am.

 

my walk is slow and secure—

as I find where i am going;

with wisdom, compassion, and the knowledge

of understanding of who i am.

 

walk slowly.

 

4/18/2020

 

17 days in Q [Haibun]

     Friday afternoons are a strange time of the day for me. Sometime I skip the mornings and late-night dishes; then go out to the safest places I know. Usually to the local grocery store and buy things I’ve never bought before.

     It doesn’t take long to go about short business before I’m back in my “cave”; 4 o’clock and I’m lost on what to do. I hear the cuckoo clock in my head, telling me to go do the dishes then make myself something to eat. Again. I’m coming 😊

Wheels turn when moved

Birds fly from perch of safety

Rain shelters us all

 
7 Comments

Posted by on April 18, 2020 in Haibun, Poetry, thoughts, unemployed, Zen

 

Tags: , , , ,

7 responses to “Notes found on the refrigerator…April 17,18, 2020

  1. Helen

    April 20, 2020 at 1:25 pm

    I find myself living a similar theme … I really enjoyed this.

    Like

     
  2. Jim

    April 19, 2020 at 10:16 pm

    Funny but not funny.
    Sad and really sad
    But no one dares tell me that because I’ll
    blow my top, really mad.
    RK, while I was writing that I was trying to figure out what goes on here. Nothing special, the misses thinks it must be Saturday, or what day is it. One of us volunteers to make the evening meal. I said it first and made myself a sardine sandwich and she had oatmeal, she doesn’t like sardines and I gag on oatmeal.
    I hope this helped.
    ..
    Oh yes, we are watching all the old recorded programs that we haven’t erased, some we have not warched.
    ..

    Like

     
  3. Rosemary Nissen-Wade

    April 19, 2020 at 7:24 pm

    There’s a wistfulness about these gently beautiful pieces. The emptiness of ageing? Or just of routine and sameness? Very convincing – but we know this protagonist is not the real you. The real you is engaged in the world of making, sharing and reading poems, and the refrigerator door is a blog!

    Like

     
  4. Carrie V. H.

    April 19, 2020 at 3:43 pm

    This is a lovely Haibun! I can greatly relate to your day. Dishes can always wait.

    Like

     
  5. gillena cox

    April 19, 2020 at 3:18 pm

    Luv the metaphor of the cave. For a lot of us who are accustomed to solitude, we recognize that in some way santuary is now cave
    Happy Sunday ZQ

    Much💛love

    Like

     
  6. Anthony North

    April 19, 2020 at 12:56 pm

    A most reflective piece. Nice one.

    Like

     
  7. Sherry Marr

    April 19, 2020 at 12:03 pm

    I am most struck by “Birds fly from perch of safety.” That’s how I feel when I venture out to the grocery store in the middle of social distancing. Stay safe, kiddo.

    Like

     

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