When the world ended,
nobody felt it.
No one announced it.
It went unnoticed.
The clock kept ticking.
The sun kept rising,
and every day
it was
business as usual.
Everything progressed
except souls —
they died.
Tag: journal
A Day at the Pool
Sun in my eye
as I try
to catch a happy toddler,
my son,
jumping into the cold water
I’m in.
He doesn’t know how to swim, but
he loves the water.
He jumps into the pool bravely
once, twice, thrice,
and many more times.
Sun on my shoulders
as I stand behind him.
My shadow becomes the shade
he plays in
for a while.
The rays of the hot summer sun
sting my shoulders.
I feel the burn,
but
I don’t mind it.
I look up, and my eyes meet
his mother’s eyes,
my wife,
my lovely, lovely wife.
She’s over there
on a chaise longue by the pool.
I smile, and I nod,
which means she can sunbathe
for a little while longer,
just a little while longer,
until our son starts looking for her.
I close my eyes for a second and
try to register our day at the pool
in my mind.
I want this to be
a memory I come back to.
I take a sip of warm beer.
I’m happy.
Side Notes on Paul Klee’s May Picture
What is Paul Klee’s May Picture if not a patchwork? It’s not an aerial shot of beautifully arranged fields of flowers. No. I see pieces of cloth sewn together. And when my eyes hover over the upper center-right, I see that (most of the) lighter-colored pieces of cloth were used there… Something is unbalanced there. Although it could be just the wind that’s blowing, there’s something behind the patchwork. Is that the profile of a dog in a scarf? It could be, but it also doesn’t have to be. What is it? I can’t tell, and I’m not sure if I really want to know. I like the shades of red on the bottom left of the canvas. Together, they form the anchor of the whole piece.
