End of day goodbyes.
A minute ago we were slammed
Making decisions, fixing errors.
Editing and building ads
Ordering lunch, walking the newshounds.
Interviews hastily managed over the phone.
Note taking and surfing.
And making coffee, before
And arriving, not perky.
The day began
Who flits beyond her window In a dusty attic room And gathered up its feathers To brush away the doom.
Its flight took it far away the absence made her weep But when her typing ended The notion was complete.
Unity is power, he said.
I loved his face,
but his laugh bothered me.
It impressed me as phoney.
And who was he anyway
to tell me about unity?
I heard my mother in my mind;
her voice sharp with knowingness.
Her eyes like pools of wet, blue experience.
Don’t lower your standards,
I believed her.
Increase the effort.
About men? I thought?
He laughed again, and I walked away.
But not before taking the brochure he offered.