white dress

grey morning
dark still house
I'm wrapped in a sweater
zipped, cream
I stand at the window
look at the peppermint growing in its pot
eat strawberries out of my hand
tart
followed by a bit of cookie
sweet
steady rain falls
peaceful
and yet I feel, I don't know
expectant
as if something should happen
reaching for something to happen
the walk won't, not in this weather
good day for a movie
anything playing?
read an essay on Walt Whitman this morning
I haven't read enough of him
raining hard now
pearl cascades slip
down the windowpanes
I wish
I wish
I wish
In my dream last night I read a short poem
by E.D.
the words were vivid and made sense
but it's gone now - darn!
now that would be something, to capture a poem in a dream
drops patter on the flagstones
drum on the roof
pelt the driveway
thunder trembles
a car door slams
footfall on the steps
screen door slaps
icemaker shudders out a single rattling cube
hello - I'm back
I think I'll take the car.

On Big Love this morning
the girl who looks like Buffy's younger sister
runs after the car that leaves without her
she beats on the hood as the car pulls away
the prom king stands in the moon roof
and looks back at her
she stops in the middle of the road
in her long white dress and her long dark hair
and stands there
then she starts to walk slowly
avoiding the puddle from a sprinkler
that would soak her alabaster hem