the unlit room was comfortable and soothing;
the day had been muggy and the absence of light –
relief, from an oppressive glare . . .
the fan oscillated back and forth
sending shady breezes tumbling round me,
kicking up the air, so that, the nuisance
trivialities of the day, rolled away
like thistledown bounding down hill
contentment – in the restorative calm of nothing-to-do,
alone in the pleasant dark, sitting - utterly relaxed
in THE MOST COMMODIOUS CHAIR . . .
but, of course, aloneness ceases to be a treat
if it lingers overly long – and, as luck would have it,
i was spared the fate of boredom that,
occasionally, descends in gloomy exhalations, upon
unoccupied hours . . . if they are not interrupted, at some point . . .
when the door opened and hot light and hub-bub and racket
blasted the tranquility with all the subtlety of
a nuclear thermal rocket taking off
in the cozy confines of my little dark lair - - - - - - - - - -
“We’re Back!” . . .”Why is it so dark in here?”
oh dear . . . caught sitting alone in the noiseless, dark . . . again
– from blissful solitude and quiet sanctuary –
to: “umm, i dunno – i guess . . . i must have dozed off”.
photo: Door in the Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden, in Vancouver's Chinatown - W. Bourke
© 2015 Wendy Bourke