Reset Forty, Day Thirty

[rejectomorph]

So Saturday I got a few things done— some cobwebs swept down from the walls, the bathroom sink scoured, the windowsills damp washed free of obvious grime, a few other small things. It was only part of what needs to be done, and was surprisingly tiring, but at least there's a bit less to do now. After dealing with so many objects I didn't feel like cooking dinner, so I microwaved a ramen bowl. Some of the reaching must have put something in my neck out of place, as I ended up with a headache and a sore jaw, though the jaw might be the result of having my teeth clenched, which is something I tend to do when focused on some non-abstract task. I'm hoping I can sleep the headache off.

The day: Gray clouds that turned fluffy white in the late afternoon, birds singing, stiff breezes, etc, etc. I've seen it all before. Right now I need to stop yawning or it will make my jaw worse. That means I should try to sleep.




Sunday Verse

Fishing

by A.E. Stallings


The two of them stood in the middle water,
The current slipping away, quick and cold,
The sun slow at his zenith, sweating gold,
Once, in some sullen summer of father and daughter.
Maybe he regretted he had brought her—
She'd rather have been elsewhere, her look told—
Perhaps a year ago, but now too old.
Still, she remembered lessons he had taught her:
To cast towards shadows, where the sunlight fails
And fishes shelter in the undergrowth.
And when the unseen strikes, how all else pales
Beside the bright-dark struggle, the rainbow wroth,
Life and death weighed in the shining scales,
The invisible line pulled taut that links them both.