A Cook’s Tour

I rise before the sun,
washing, dressing,
preparing for another day
of pushing paper and dodging drama.
With back and joints screaming to return to bed,
I plop myself instead
into the old thrift store orange vinyl chair
ready for inspiration.
No external prompt to prod my muse.
Sitting shocked,
unintentionally holding my breath,
I stretch my fingers for the keys
and start to drive without direction
or destination.
Disappointment takes a soft left
as words skip onto the electronic page.
I smile in spite of myself
feeling like I’ve just found an empty field
full of fireflies.

I’m noticing a lot of road and driving metaphor in my work lately. Perhaps my subconscious is going somewhere… or demanding that I do. ;)


Andrea Dawn said...

I so enjoyed this, I love the way you write. I'm smiling with you at the last two lines.

Letitia said...

Thanks Andrea! If you hadn't guessed, it was my reaction at not having the Five Minute Friday up before I went to work. I so look forward to my new "shove" to write at least weekly. ;)

Have a great weekend. I look forward to reading your blog more thoroughly. I've very much enjoyed what I've read so far. :)

Anonymous said...

Really like this poem, can't say why, maybe because I'm going somewhere too and can connect with the words or because the words are beautifully put together.

Letitia said...

@Marie Harmony... restlessness often drives me. Not knowing where I'm headed can be half the fun and has lead me to some really wonderful places. :) I'm glad you liked the poem.

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