Moving Day / Musings

It’s a dance, you know

The people, the boxes, the scrrritchy

sound of tape

Sweat, coke, coffee and biscuits

No swear words, they are very polite

Soft padding on the stairs, no shoes

Bubble wrap squeaking,

Darth Vader wrapped in plastic

from head to below his knees, finally

captured

Some heavy sighs, understandable, those

wardrobes are a nightmare to

disassemble. He remembers, from

last time. And I went and bought

another one. Sorry, I say

It’s ok he says

I’m not sure it is, but

he does not complain

ever

I’m full of energy, and completely

exhausted

If I sit down I want to sleep, if I stand up I

want to laugh and chat and do more stuff

It’s a little discombobulating, inhabiting two states

of being at once

So I’m here, by my desk, with wine

glasses clinking in the next room, paper

scrunching, boxes

swept along floorboards

Wondering if the tube will keep me

awake at night, if the kids

will be ok, if the

dog will bark every two minutes

That’s how often it will pass

under our house

Right there, in the ground

lots of people, who have no idea

their commute will stir my coffee and

massage my feet, and I think;

why do I feel so positive?

Because I do. I feel fine.

Calm. OK.

Maybe

the difficult bits in life are

not

a vibration

The difficult bits in life are not a

click

of a track or swoosh

of a train

It is

befitting for us

I think

with a life in

rhythmic resonance

and the dog barks