This has been a month of small stones. A member of our writing group challenged us to write a stone a day and post it. A stone is a small mindful observation. They need not be provocative or especially insightful but quite often these little observations turn out to be that way. It is a way to celebrate the present. To be aware of one surroundings, the sights, the sounds, the smells that creates appreciation. The following are fourteen stones I’ve written this month:
Bangers in the fry pan.Not the name of a bandbut dinner.
He shoots! He scores!The goalie, a concrete step leading to the building’s parking lot, remained defenselessAgainst two small boysWielding wicked slap shotsOf imagination.
Upon the shelf in the spare closet, cord coiled around its base, the summer fan is returned. What seems necessity for a few weeks soon becomes obsolete.
Condensation from a forgotten water bottle, meant to be taken for a walk, tinkles droplets of water forming puppy pools on the kitchen counter.
A raised divider separates the four lanes of roadway. Along this stretch left and right are never to meet and find common ground. Over this no-man’s land runs a woman, uncommitted to taking a side, frantically searching for something she somehow lost.
Slipper, missing its mate, idle at bedside.
Two pillows curl between shadow and armrests.
On the sidewalk, below storefront eaves
A busker dressed in blue
Plays Led Zeppelin
“If you’re over fifty you should know this.”
He cries out
Strumming a pummelled guitar
Empty bowl, empty plate, empty cup, empty chair…
Low afternoon sun squints close the eyes
But hearts beat openly for this heat.
Black pencil on green paper
When thought left the room.
Across a scratched pine tabletop
Scraps from breakfast
Cast short-lived shadows.
Remote control sits on table devoid of colour.
Sun softens rain into yesterday’s forgetfulness.
So that's it. Another two weeks to go.