MOBILE

On the first of April, that foolish folly day, I will have written everyday for one whole year.  365 days.  WAWhooo.  I intended to  gather some of my writings and make a small book of my poetry.  Do any of you remember liking any in particular?  If you have the time, might you take a quick peruse and jog your memory?  I welcome help.  thanks so much.

The quiet doesn’t move the mobile

It hangs there suspended in my stare

Will the cat’s play stir the air

Will my tapping here ripple up a storm

I think that I might give it an exhale

Maybe push it just so that it will move

In this still breath of my home 

I think I’ll leave the room and come back

My stare must have wind to it

Rolling right out of my eyeballs

Cause the Orange circle and the crescent 

have just started to move the whole sculpture

toward the west counter clockwise 

pointing a metal finger right at me

A pause and now with nothing but a look see

It moves backwards holding the pose 

of “There, are you happy now I moved?”

It hangs there suspended unmoving now

just like a few moments ago when the

storm from my eyes gave it a little smack

and it teased me to it’s slow, ever so slow

Rotation.  Damn there it goes again.