Lying in bed for the last 5 or so hours, doing pretty much nothing at all.
Looking out to the tree outside the window.
Leaves turning yellow.
Autumn and then winter is around the corner.
In the other room, my husband is playing Simon & Garfunkel.
I sing along under my breath and into my pillow
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence
The quilt is a tangled mess.
In the folds, lies the book I’m reading with its cracked spine and dog eared pages.
Empty chip packet discarded on the bedside drawer.
My forehead is damp from sweat.
Groggy from an hour long siesta, the cat watches me watching him.
He wants to be fed. It’s time to be fed. He stares me down willing me to make my move to the kitchen.
I can’t move. Not yet. Not now. Tomorrow the rush begins.
Lazy Sunday afternoons.
This is what it’s all about.
Looks like a tree to me…. pic.twitter.com/zyPN7MWJRZ
— Helen Blunden (@ActivateLearn) February 24, 2019