Monday, April 27, 2009

I woke up reaching for my pen and paper. I could tell the morning sky was gray; the cold, maritime scent creeping through the half-opened window, the lone warbling of a bird outside. Sunshine would have brought about a chorus of chirps but only a solitary twitter could be heard from my bed. I could see the little life in my head, a plump brown and black body bouncing on a spring switch, calling to his mates to join him on the dewy, green limb. I lay there, listening to the man beside me, the sleepiness rising up from his warm limbs tempting me to slumber. His arm found its way around my shoulder and wrapped me down under it, an unconscious gesture to not disturb either of our reveries. The words of this story bounced around in my head and I tried to hold them in tight while my eyes fell shut, hoping they’d be waiting for me on the other side. There was more to this, and fortunately some stragglers stuck about to be remembered here. Others flew away, as they are wont to do, like little birds.

Artwork by Kimball Davis