I put the flower in a cup of water so it will not wilt. The cat puts her face in it as well. She wonders what that flower is doing here. The flower isn’t doing anything. It would have preferred to remain where it had been attached to its true source of nourishment and understanding, its roots. They miss each other.
Birds sit on a railing watching me approach. They aren’t struggling to survive. Survival is not that hard. They are not afraid I will pick one of them and put it in a cup of water so it will not wilt. I have no crumbs for them. They don’t mind.
SUMMER FLOWERS CUT
KIKI DRINKS BLOSSOM WATER
BIRDS WATCH AS I WALK.
Linked to dVerse Haibun Monday. Toni is hosting on any topic. Come join us to write a haibun.
Photos: “Kiki Hiding Her Face” and “Birds on Boardwalk”, below, both by the author. These are linked to K’lee and Dale‘s Cosmic Photo Challenge with the theme “faces”. My cat Kiki’s face is hidden. The birds don’t mind showing their faces anywhere.
I don’t think the brain wants coffee as much as coconut oil. I put a large tablespoon of it in my coffee each morning. I know that sounds gross, but milk is just as gross, if you pause briefly to think about it, and don’t get me started on what coffee shops do with whipped cream. I prefer coffee strong and black in a real mug, but the brain doesn’t only need coffee to see straight.
Truly true stories don’t have bad guys. There aren’t as many out there anyway who want to feast on us like we feast on whatever we can. It’s not that there aren’t bad guys, people who, even with the gates open, even with there being no gates, even with there being no outside, feel unworthy to enter paradise. It’s more like we need some coconut oil in our coffee to see them better.
I take for granted that the Sun will rise in the morning. Is that because the Sun or the Earth loves us? We don’t like to think so, but what we like to think doesn’t matter when it comes to reality. Besides, we will abandon them before they abandon us. If I were the Sun, or the Earth, I would love to indiscriminately scatter crumbs to whomever was out there, good or bad, like an offering.
Some people drink coffee out of the skin of an avocado–or so I’ve heard. That drink must be hard to hold. All they’re lacking to make a really bad mess is whipped cream.
The river overflowed the trails.
The brown cattails
And lilies there
And birds don’t care.
My disappointment flickers though.
I’ll let it go
There’s much to see.
When blocked from going on my walk,
I want to mind
Can rest, unwind.
Linked to dVerse Quadrille celebrating its 6th Anniversary and hosted by Grace with prompt word “flicker”.
Photo “Exterior of the Trail” by the author linked to K’lee and Dale‘s Cosmic Photo Challenge with theme “exterior”. I am on the outside or exterior of the Des Plaines River Trail at Half Day Forest Preserve. High water from the rains a couple days ago overflowed the river onto the trails although that overflowing is not evident in this picture. The collage below contains scenes in Half Day Forest Preserve that I would have missed if the trails were usable. They are also part of the “exterior” of these trails.
If my imaginary friend had more brains I’d trust her advice, but when Alice tells me something I have to examine it from all angles, especially those angles I forget to check. It might be the best advice I’ll get today, but I really should be getting it tomorrow–or yesterday.
I once told her that a neuroscientist would likely think she was some configuration of neurons acting up in my head. She observed, “They don’t know jack. Do you really think I’m a figment of your imagination?” She expected an answer, and silence wouldn’t do, so I tried dodging the question by saying, “I don’t even know what my imagination is!” She didn’t think I had one either.
“What do you think that crow means in the sky?” Alice gazed at some bird.
“The one in front of your face. And you think I’m in your imagination? You’re too dumb for me to fit in there.”
Then I think I saw what she was referring to: “That bird?”
“You better get your phone out before it’s too late–Ah!! Too bad. It’s too late. It’s gone.”
That saved me from getting out my phone.
“So what do you think it meant?” Her questions are not speculations for someone sitting in a parallel universe or falling through a black hole or bobbing back and forth in some time wormhole to contemplate. She demands real answers in the real world.
“Well, you know, it could mean anything.”
“Come on, brainless! Black crow, blue sky, flying by. What’s the message?”
“Do you know?” I might as well ask the one with brains.