Quick Scribblings.


As a comedian’s voice babbles in the background that I am not in the mood to listen to, let alone let myself be amused by, across the old covered fireplace slanted rays fall, a flurry of wings, a landing on a swaying branch, and preening till some unseen scare prompts fluttering flight again.

I am uncertain if we are fighting. The weather has been lovely today. I have been at home all day. I want to get out. The moment passes, we are not fighting.

I write to capture both beautiful and unhappy.

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