Tuesday, July 21, 2009

"Days When Nothing Happens"

Laying on the living room floor this afternoon as daughters one and two built a fort out of the coffee table and blankets and as number three fell asleep on my chest, this poem came to mind. Since I can't find it anywhere on the web, I can't link to it, so I'll just post an excerpt in hopes that I'm not breaking any copyright laws.

Happy reading about, well, a whole lotta nuthin'.

* * * *

Days When Nothing Happens

by David Tucker
(from Days When Nothing Happens [Slapering Hol Press, 2004])

On days when nothing happens
a jet loafs overhead, an hourglass of smoke
fanning out behind it.

On days when nothing happens
a paper sack plays in the street, your overcoat hangs
and forgets you[,]


the mantel clock calls
the small noises back to the house,

a daughter's red sneaker
sits all afternoon on the window sill,
trying to be quiet.