fancy
an aspiration: that my fingers deftly dance upon my flute-keys with the gentle grace of the woman braiding her hair in this café (and to cause this same delight)
an aspiration: that my fingers deftly dance upon my flute-keys with the gentle grace of the woman braiding her hair in this café (and to cause this same delight)
several flutes, and several kinds of incense and sheaves of music strewn about the wooden buddha suggests i step outside and i’m not up for an argument
do the calla lilies care that i’m swimming in plans, without breakfast? will the salvias notice that noon approaches without my having walked within their fragrances? i ask the nicotianas off the porch, but they’re too busy blooming to answer
timing is everything–it’s easy to forget but miraculous quiet reminders abound: while walking with my visiting friend, we witnessed the first cherry blossoms of the season
the faithful-orange-flowered-volunteer- whose-name-nobody-knows is back handsome in the rain. i’ll grind some coffee my friend will wake up soon