Poems & Essays

21 Nov

The Untitled Day

General/Column No Response

“Bless This Mess”
The placard reads,
And hangs askew from the refrigerator magnet,
Still unstraightened,
Perhaps out of fear
That reducing the mess
Will reduce the blessing.

The mess moves chaotically,
Sometimes lumbering,
Sometimes oozing,
Other times darting from room to room
Ever a few steps ahead of
The bending, stooping pursuer,
The frustrated cleaner,
Tired and whelmed by the knowledge that,
Around the next corner,
The mess lurks,
Biding its time,
Incipient and potential,
Perhaps snickering with a sound like bursting bubble wrap.

Curse this mess?

No, for at the end of the mess one finds its makers,
Little creators,
Founts of flotsam,
Giggling and chattering and learning the ways of the world.

 

Timothy Newell has almost a dozen years of experience as a parent, a master’s degree in English with a creative writing emphasis, and a lifelong passion for writing and storytelling.

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