Ten years from now,
we will look back and laugh
(why can’t I start now?)


I’ll have a house, husband,
two dogs, and a cat;
all surrounded by the proverbial
white picket fence


this day will not matter
(until realization 
of surroundings
set in)


that basket of dirty clothes
will stay neglected;
that closet with
red, green, & blue
hangers
will be gone


you can pack as much as you want;
storing in your mind,
but you won’t carry it all
(your memory was not
built in digital)


you will sit down;
make a list, and
figure out the most important


(only a flash of sadness will surface)


you must wrap your scarf tight;
holding in gulp of tears


I know your stomach’s growling,
for it will not be ignored
feed it pictures;
it will learn to live without.
06/11/2005
Author's Note: The title is the name of a song by Swearing at Motorists.

Posted on 06/11/2005
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