Around the Block (Day 20, #NaPoWriMo 2013)

Around the Block
By Hannah Six

Coffee grown tepid in
the whale-tail handled mug beside me,
my unproductive fingers withdraw,
    shamed and cold,
into the stretched-out sleeves
of a cashmere cardigan—
the precise color of a slice
    of Wonder Bread,
    kneaded back to doughiness
    by grubby little hands
—a badge of honor
from a boy
I no longer consider.

Strings of words, elusive wraiths, billow
    like squandered prayer flags
    around my me,
teasing, mocking, ever beyond reach.
Meanwhile, my wretched muse sulks
    in the corner
    behind my right shoulder,
where the lamp beside
the rose-patterned armchair
is seldom,
these days,
switched on.

A ghost now, at best,
bilious seaweed hair and
almost-there complexion
betray her discontent.
What is it? What is it? I entreat,
willing to
meet her
halfway.

The coffee? Perhaps, instead,
I should I should bask
in the steam
of a porcelain cup
of hibiscus tea
sweetened with
organic, local blackberry honey.

The daylight? A fat pear-scented
soy-based pillar
might create
a more enticing glow…
But, no.

Pushing away from the desk,
chair legs and floor cry out en masse,
protesting this untimely intimacy.
I rest my favorite aqua pen
on a chopstick holder (bird’s egg blue)
from the Asian store
on Connecticut Avenue where
    many a lazy
        lunch-hour stroll
            led me,
way-back-when.

Me thinks I will,
talking to the Muse, I say,
call it a day.

Beyond the fog-rimmed window
    pine boughs nod:
    Yes… yes…
And, suddenly,
the dim, chill, gray-white drizzle
takes on a prospect of delight.
I reach for my umbrella
and the dog’s new, pink leash.

Around the Block (Day 20, #NaPoWriMo 2013)