Consolations After a Hiatus

By Toni Hoberecht

 

My pens are playing music with each other:

They seemed happy together dancing,

last week in the evening.

I have surfboards under the house,

Dehydrated and thirsty.

They hate the tickle of tiny legs.

Discussing the cold drips from ice cycles,

That cease in the stories of men.

I’ve discovered I do not need,

Paper dolls and fancy things.

Above a gecko scurries the ceiling,

Leaf shot out in a sudden breeze.

I can smell the rustic sweetness of the earth,

Quiet and content among the trees that I love.