From an early age I was fascinated with keys, even the ones on a can of spam! Finding them, collecting them, locking them away in a box for safe keeping. Finding a key on the ground was especially exciting.
The key turns in the lock of the old pine door. I shut the door behind me. I know which stair squeaks and avoid stepping on it so the noise isn’t carried thru the floor and into my daughter’s dreams. I can work with steadiness, I can work with calm, I can balance tea and emotions. I’ve been capturing the quiet of this morning like a dusty moth beneath the glass of a spent pickle jar. There was an effort, a chase, the painted paper of wings against glass and then suddenly I found the quiet in my hands, turned it over and over, inspected it and embraced it. In a short while, I’ll set the quiet free again. Upstairs in my studio, the world is blue. I’ve left the lights off for the time being. I’ve been writing emotions down in the sketchbook with help of cold fingers and the dampness of a springtime morning drifting in thru the big window that faces south. At any rate, before the blue light of the morning runs out, I wanted to pour everything out on that paper and start the day with a quiet heart.
My childhood!
ReplyDeleteFrom an early age I was fascinated with keys, even the ones on a can of spam! Finding them, collecting them, locking them away in a box for safe keeping. Finding a key on the ground was especially exciting.
I wonder what ever happened to my box of keys??
Rick
I like the idea of locking up keys, Rick, this does something kinda cool in my mind!!! Thank you for sharing!
DeleteNot sure where to post this: if you get a chance stop by my blog pls to pick up an award! (no pressure) :-)
ReplyDeleteThe Happy Amateur
Forgot the link:
Deletehttp://www.thehappyamateur.com/2012/05/liebster-blog-nominations.html
Thank you!
Had some time today:
ReplyDeleteThe key turns in the lock of the old pine door. I shut the door behind me. I know which stair squeaks and avoid stepping on it so the noise isn’t carried thru the floor and into my daughter’s dreams.
I can work with steadiness, I can work with calm, I can balance tea and emotions.
I’ve been capturing the quiet of this morning like a dusty moth beneath the glass of a spent pickle jar.
There was an effort, a chase, the painted paper of wings against glass and then suddenly I found the quiet in my hands, turned it over and over, inspected it and embraced it. In a short while, I’ll set the quiet free again.
Upstairs in my studio, the world is blue. I’ve left the lights off for the time being. I’ve been writing emotions down in the sketchbook with help of cold fingers and the dampness of a springtime morning drifting in thru the big window that faces south.
At any rate, before the blue light of the morning runs out, I wanted to pour everything out on that paper and start the day with a quiet heart.
I’ve been capturing the quiet of this morning like a dusty moth beneath the glass of a spent pickle jar.
DeleteOh, Veronica!! Great write and that line!! A wowsers from me! Smiles to you!
Walt!!! Love this prompt, it brought out an old buried dream that lingers long with me to this day!
ReplyDeleteIf any one would like to read it please feel free to copy/paste this address and navigate to my corner of the blogosphere!
Thank you!
http://wordrustling.wordpress.com/2012/05/18/of-bright-bursting-elusive-meaning/
Nice prompt... some mane keys on so many levels
ReplyDeletehttp://meenarose.wordpress.com/2012/05/18/flash-write-fridays-shackles-of-destiny/