Posts Tagged ‘sofa



Sitting on an inner tube at the top of the hill,
Shivering from- cold? adrenaline? anticipation?- till you
Slipped your arms around me, pulling me
Snugly against your warm body. Holding tight, I leaned back… back. In
Slow motion we started our descent, but you expertly
Steered us toward the welcoming sofa, your lips moving against mine-
Softly at first- while my heart swooped and careered.
Suddenly, though by nature a flightless bird, I am free and
Soaring above the surface of the frozen lake. Coming to earth at last with a
Slight bump, I am exhilarated, breathless, eager to return to the

[Thanks for the title @Astrogirl426.]



“Let’s put the sofa outside,” I signed to my sister.
“Maybe it’ll go to a good home.”
“Can’t,” she signed back.
“Rain tomorrow.”
“I am sick and tired of this rain,” I said, signing “sick” with both hands so she could see I was serious.
“It rains so much because you cry so much.”
“I’ll stop if it does,” I said.
I tried my best and didn’t cry any more that day
But the rain came down just the same.



I am knitting
And waiting for the socks to be dry
So the child can put them on
And go to school.
Cars are whooshing by on the wet road.
I hear the tappity-tap as the child checks e-mail.
The only other sound’s the whirr of the dryer
As it demoisturizes the socks.
It would be so easy to make a cup of tea,
To settle back on the couch, lulled into peacefulness by the cars
And the purr of the dryer.
Too late, she’s in the room with me now
Demanding news of the disposition of her socks.