The 9 to 5 gig put me up in a hotel as we had meetings early. Not only did I have macaroons waiting for me, but I got a different view of the city then usual.
Even after seven years in Chicago, there is still so much to see and do. Sometimes I get itchy feet and want another adventure, in a different city, different country. And then I go home with my routine on the same bus and am quietly content.
It is odd to have the conflicting parts of me, the traveler and the homebody. The duality, I suppose, keeps life interesting.
the house was awake, stirred by the restless call and response--blessings--
after, pictures would show only the remnants of the seven empty bottles.
One sparkling, with a cork found lodged in the tree outside.
Nothing of the women.
Seven women left to feed an old murky
dream built by bitter second sons.
Can't you hear?
Because if you're a writer you have to have a blog, right?