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The middle of anything

is a mess & mire

of chaos. Imagine

 

cleaning out a closet –

the way that the clothes

are piled on the bed, hangers

 

tangled in hangers. The

shoes, boots, & pumps,

piled like some

 

funeral pyre

in the middle

of your bedroom floor.

 

Scarves, belts, ties

cascade over arm

chairs and night stands.

 

And the greedy boxes

awaiting decisions for

goodwill or garbage,

 

or keep and organize

back. The meltdown

when you are half

 

way through a job

and the brightness

of looking back

 

on work completed

is but a distant

fantasy. Yes,

 

there is chaos

in the decisions

of the middle

 

but wade through

the murky deep

the shallow shores are.

 

Poem #3 of the Poem almost everyday project.

Goodreads

Lady Diction’s Calendar

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