Thought Wheel

Ann Chiappetta

Night’s Window

| Filed under blogging nonfiction Poem

What did I do today? I slept late, a wonderful thing to execute after retirement.

 

Once I got up, I took my meds and got to work reading the never-ending stream of email. I wrote a report for one group, filled out two forms for a festival I am attending, and decided on what to have for dinner along with my spouse.

 

He got harassed by our cats for food and started baking a cake and discovered we didn’t have any butter. Off to the store he went with a list on his phone because he cannot remember anything.  Now I am waiting for his return so the dogs can eat. We feed them together mostly because we do some minor food prep for them. One dog gets a pill in the watermelon, the other has to get his food measured and they both get a few green beans and a sprinkle of probiotics on top.

We’ll start dinner after he bakes the cake. We will let the dogs run in the backyard and  look forward to sitting down and sharing a meal together.

 

In the frame of

the picture window

forks dip and lift in

the reflection of evening

 

gloaming silvers the

wintered grass until our specters

fade into the night