Observe Life


What is my waking thought?
Observe LIFE.
Fetch me the file, I want to see what is in there not to be missed.

It is a four-day (Feng shui). Purple reigns
but not purple reins.
Gee. Manila.
Pecan bun fluffy and nutty,
one left with my name in it,

as Meg says.
At this hour?
Meg is a gem!

News of the $104 million-plus Giacometti man sculpture rises above the fold of the New York Times.

Post office
pit stop. Green poster
Read, respond and
recycle your mail, pinned above the blue plastic
tub with the padlock piercing its lip.
A lattice-backed sign 
lashed to a lamp-post
in West Reading

draws attention to
Carriage Rides
Five p.m. Ahem…What are you doing then?

the price tag, $55 is
Beyond my means,
but the idea is enchanting.
I brake for flowers and stop at Forest Glen,
what are the hours? Closed for the third time and fourth day in a row
May I reuse and recycle this
mosaic flower bowl
from last year
because I like it so much and
its neutral hues are pleasant
and it gives the overall impression
that Life is Disco,
like the silver glitter balls
from the eighties –
so simple the eighties – so my mother gets flowers for Valentine’s in a container that compliments her room, please?

I try the door
but it doesn’t give
and the OPEN sign is unlit
while the interior is not
unlit.
By the right rear wheel of my car,

In the gutter,
Pick of the Litter!
a chance to play and win the game of LIFE.
at Rite Aid.
Collect & Win
the Carnival sweepstakes.
Street sweeper that I am,
I pick up this prize
and take it to the park.
The time the park closes is back to 6 pm
I find this heartening.
An untended ladder
spreads its feet by one of the deciduous trees, 

no one there to do the arduous task
of removing the string of lights
left over from the holidays and wrapped up in this dogwood.
One end
dangles free
I see it as I press a sticky note on one rung
a sticky note with my little sketchy,
a heart inside a diamond
the Green Diamond of Berks
and think about Postsecret
being artist laureate and what I would write on my postcard
[how weary I have grown of keeping people’s secrets]
 not that I would tell,
I just don’t want to add any more to the collection.
I want to play by the creek,
walk along the water
like a natural observer.
In the upper lot I find an aluminum can tab
for someone’s fund drive,

(I have a green plastic sour gummies One-A-Day vitamin container at home that holds them for this purpose).
A carefree dashboard diner

has deposited a Tastycake peach pie box on the ground. Blue banner with a window on top.

Is life a peach? Life is a beach.

One kitten greets me at home, I sprawl on the carpet

and open myself to him

in his standoffishness,

the sun strikes the arc of black and white

on his left hind leg

and the line continues through the winter

pastel picture of trees in snow

propped up behind him

against the brown box passed down

through the Innis family line to me,

to infinity and beyond

and then you die.

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