There are open spaces in the plotting of a story
I print out for edit during one of my work hours
In the silence of creativity, a lavender plant
lends its fragrance and color, painting a calm
Outside squirrels scamper, toddlers play and
their grandmothers stand-watch in doorways,
chili stewing and stacks of tortillas, warm and
soft, rest and wait under clean kitchen towels

Spring is moving into summer and neighbors
tend their herb and vegetable gardens
They imagine the yield dressed in salads
They’re willing to share the harvest with friends
A world away soldiers download ordnance,
synchronized to the hum and click of my printer
Bodies fall, hearts stop, mother-tears water
my manuscript, blue-pencilled by rifle fire

© 2018, poem and photograph, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved



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