Dancing the Dance

(No, that's not a self-portrait. It's a creation by our grandson, Thomas)


Talk about quiet. 


There weren’t even any e-mails this week. Oh, there were the usual offerings of SPAM ... things which I thought I had blocked long ago ... a couple of newsletters from writing and art groups (but, through an involved, convoluted way of viewing them ... welcome though they are ... newsletters don’t count as e-mail) ... but none of those “Hey! How ya doin’?” kind of things which keep S&G going.


But I understand. People are busy. Even Professor Squigglee and I are busy, too. He’s busy grading papers, I presume ... and I’m busy watching the leaves turn ... and they always do at this time of year. Somebody has to watch them, to be sure they’re doing it right. 


I’ve stepped into the breach, and I can report that the leaves seem to be turning properly ... so far.


Meanwhile, I’m going to give all of you a break this week. None of my long-winded diatribes. No homework assignments from Professor Squigglee ... and no pop quizzes in the offing.


But if you do find a spare minute in the coming week, I wouldn’t mind hearing from you ... and you ... and you. Helps to keep S&G ... and me ... going, sorta. Thanks.


-S&G-


Also, meanwhile, if you’d like to see what’s up with my other ... DAILY blog ... here’s a link to it:


http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/


Thanks for paying a visit there, too.


-S&G-


TODAY’S POEM ... I think, is fitting for a week in which nothing happened at Brimm Manor ... and, seemingly, other places, too. In hopes that it tells its own story, here it is:  


DANCING THE DANCE


Tomorrow I shall write all those things
I intended to write today,
but didn't.


With a single bound, two at most,
I shall leave my bed.


I shall fly into the backlogged stacks
of things to rewrite, and I shall be there
two hours early to begin, as one must, 
if one flies these days.


I shall walk 
the narrow path
(so deserted)
to distasteful,
routine tasks.


I shall run the vacuum briskly over these
scattered promises that litter my trail.


I shall sleep, fitfully, but dutifully,
simply because I must, though I may toss 
and turn most of the afternoon.


And when night comes, I shall turn 
the lights down low, put on some music, 
and dance the dance of good intentions,
knowing I've done my best to bound, 
to fly, to walk, to run, to sleep; ah, 
yes, perhaps, even to write.


(originally published in Kaleidoscope)


-S&G-


COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 


Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to


rbrimm@peoplepc.com




... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)


-S&G-


UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!


-S&G-
© 2009