A Typical Day

June 29, 2008

Seeds of vast change
Swallowed in the hallowed hall
A typical summer day
A typical chair
A typical man
Atypical seeds
Sprouting forth

She sits on the floor
Coloring in the book from the corner store
Crayons of many hues
She traces her finger over the pictures she has colored
She traces her finger over the page
A typical afternoon

He’s rocking gently in his chair
Typing on his computer keyboard
The cat behind him on the floor is quiet
She seems a little hungry
He thinks it’s a little early for that

He types some more on the keyboard
He rocks again gently in his chair
Vaguely hears the bird outside

From outside the window
The bird’s eye view
He sees a third person in the room
He’s lying on the couch
Reading a newspaper
With no words

He feels her gaze on his back
Quickly rotates in his chair
She’s staring at the coloring book
Tracing circles on the blank page
The lines are following her finger
The spiral is falling into the floor
A typical summer day

He rocks back in his chair
Is surprised by the suddenness of the silence
Looks overhead
At the deep blue midday sky
There are no clouds
There are no circling, spiraling birds
There are no sounds at all

He rocks forward in his chair
Types a few more of these words on his keyboard
Hears the gurgling of the swirling lines under her swirling finger
Feels her sharp gaze on his back
He knows she is looking into the deepening spiral
Yet, he feels her sharp gaze
He read it in the newspaper
The newspaper with no words
He read it in his dreams
Tomorrow night

He rocks back again in his chair
Sees the birds singing in the nearby tree
It looks like they are smiling and singing
But, there are no sounds

She is entranced in the deepening spirals
Wonders about the man on the couch
Finds his reflection in the spirals’ light
He is flexing his muscles vigorously
He can’t get up from the couch
The newspaper is on the floor
All the words have again vanished
The words melted into the rippling waves of the spiral
She reads them as they disappear into the dark nothingness
But they have no meaning
The couch is still holding him down
She thinks that’s a little odd
Goes back to her coloring
A typical day

He watches her watching the man while outside the room
He realizes he can somehow see through the wall
He laughs at this unique moment
Then gasps when he realizes his laugh has no sound
He wonders why there is no sound outside the walls
Then realizes his hearing is still in the room
He is satisfied with this reasoning
And decides to take a short nap

The man on the couch is still struggling to get up
Flexing and relaxing and flexing some more
The couch refuses to release him
A typical room
A typical day

She is pulled from her trance by the sound
She thinks he called her name
But she doesn’t remember what her name is
She finds her way back to the beautiful swirls
The colors are perfection
The hues are wonderful
This feels like home
She’s staring at him again

He is awakened abruptly by the smell
He instantly is famished
He remembers his love for fried chicken
He realizes that this is not so typical a day
No one is cooking chicken

Type: Poetry

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