The table is modest, and wooden—unvarnished. There's a little ring where she probably puts a teacup a lot, a rough-woven placemat that was cut close-to-rectangular from a bolt of cloth.
It was set for exactly one person, although now she's pulled out three more chairs; there's a notebook sitting next to the singular place setting, closed. ]
[ there's a few other scribbled bits and bobs of poetry, mostly couplets, things with question marks, bits crossed out, attempts to describe the color purple in a way she's satisfied with, for some reason. also some flower pressings between the pages.
that's the only finished one, though due to the constraints of my time budget ]
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Re: THE COTTAGE
Re: THE COTTAGE
Re: THE COTTAGE
Re: THE COTTAGE
Re: THE COTTAGE
The table is modest, and wooden—unvarnished. There's a little ring where she probably puts a teacup a lot, a rough-woven placemat that was cut close-to-rectangular from a bolt of cloth.
It was set for exactly one person, although now she's pulled out three more chairs; there's a notebook sitting next to the singular place setting, closed. ]
Re: THE COTTAGE
Re: THE COTTAGE
Mark the course of the sun
across the sky, every morning
cup of tea, just one.
Open the page of my mind
to you, my favorite story.
Tend the garden, tend
toward nostalgia, think of
the turn of the seasons, and how
everything feels like forever
and no time at all. I have
only the clock of the sun
to guide me, and nothing
to be late to, here.
It doesn't matter. No matter
how long, when the distance
between the last time and next
is never, it's all just eternity.
Re: THE COTTAGE
Re: THE COTTAGE
that's the only finished one, though due to the constraints of my time budget ]
Re: THE COTTAGE
Re: THE COTTAGE