avoiding the desk
It is there like a loyal dog, placid yet expectant, its floppy ears twitching
as I pause in the doorway and peer in. What began as a blank surface is now
a collision of orphan objects waiting to be stowed who knows where.
The task immediately overwhelms, and I shrink back, reversing my steps,
and search the other rooms for what I hope will fetch the poems out of me.
I am that dog, too, I suppose, looking for some soft square footage to unfold into,
and I tell myself this can't be that place, with so much other work to work around.
And yet, an emptiness and freedom rests, as always, in the chair. As I hunt for some
unspoiled continent, I've missed the vacant island staring back at me.
And I see it's not the noise I'm shying from, but silence.