Golden light as the day winds down, cottonwood blooms like snow. They got lived in, those cushions out back. Cheap speakers in the garage but they fill the space. We opened the bay doors and put out our lawn chairs, hung tapestries and Christmas lights. Blew out the cobwebs and put on mix tapes. The cat brought in a bird and I composted it with a bag from the Sunday paper. Mondays are best for jazz. Smooths over the transition from Sunday, lets you know everything’s going to be okay. A lot worse has come before. Listen to the horns, and don’t mind the dust when the light fills your room.
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Categories: microblogging, prose, writing
Bill Pearse 
Reads kind of jazzy, too. Diggin’ the beat, throwin’ snaps.
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Ha, ha! Good one. Coltrane Monday, yo’!
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smooth jazz, alright –
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Yes, everything is going to be okay, the light will fill the room, never mind the dust particals revealed by its rays. Our body has innate immunity against it, we should exercise mental immunity as well. Best wishes.
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Like that Keshav! Beams to you too, my friend! Bill
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Love it!
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Love that you loved it Jazz, thank you for letting me know! Bill
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Christmas tree lights and lawn chairs, summer tunes and sparkling dust. Welcome to a strange new year.
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That’s right Dave. You probably haven’t seen the show “Stranger Things” since it’s geared toward a tweener audience, but there’s a parallel universe kind of place in it called The Upside Down. That’s us, maybe.
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