Simplicity

A splinter in the callous of my foot
A C note pulled from a cello
A glass of water set on the table in the living room, still.

My heart aches for simple.

I run for the bus,
away from you,

my hands in my purse, searching,
pulling, not dropping.

Sidewalk below my feet, unmoving,
collecting.

Wind in my hair and the movement is springtime

I frame postcards.
My eyelids do not flutter when I sleep.

If only, lurks in the curtains.

Envelopes, empty, line up like toy soldiers in a box.