Front porch –
a balcony view –
retirement’s play.

Novel – this place –
silence stretches,
pauses briefly –

a car creeps by,
or a dog barks –
my heart beats…

inside – commotion –
pounding hammers,
swoosh of legs in motion –

not mine – body bankrupt –
mind impoverished –
no – not that – just struggling.

empty boxes pile up,
others – contents lingering,
unresolved – call my name,

but the front porch
makes promises –
there is time…

(I am a day late for dVerse, but intrigued by the challenge, decided to join in anyway.  Today’s prompts are: commotion (Fandango), novel (Ragtag Community), poverty (Daily Addictions). Photo is front porch view – our first sunset.)



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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

29 thoughts on “Re-Settling”

  1. Lovely photo of sunset. How blessed to have a sunset view from your front porch. Do you have a sunrise view from your back porch, too? Isn’t it great to just be still and savor a sunset? This is an inspirational post, V.J.

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  2. You did a good job of sending the English teacher on her way. (I should know… it’s what I do for a living.) The rattling experience of moving deserves more reward than just a sunset… even a beautiful one. Hummingbirds, ice cream, someone else to do the unpacking…. Your poem catches just the right tone and pacing.

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    1. It does for certain. I was bed bound for over two years, unable to tolerate noise, light, etc. Prior to illness, I lived a hurried, very active life. The abrupt stop bombarded me with “haunting memories”. I am learning to love the silences now though.

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  3. Your poem really spoke to me. Like you I am in throes of moving into a smaller place that will suit my retirement. I like your thoughts of the promises of the front porch. I move over the next couple of weeks but already I’m imagining looking out of my little eating area into the quiet, secluded garden.

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    1. That sounds so nice, Suzanne. A smaller space means less time spent on housework, and more time for pondering, or whatever. Good luck with the move and take care of yourself in the process.

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  4. I love the mixed feelings in this poem…. resettleing… not being able to help… boxes calling … and especially the call of the front porch. the punctuation makes it really work.

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