Q and A

The following exchange is believed to have taken place between Bob and Professor Squigglee (due to recent stormy conditions and current high humidity, of course, we can’t be positive that it did ... take place, that is):


PROFESSOR SQUIGGLEE: Where have you been?


BOB: What do you mean?


PROF: I mean WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?


BOB: Why, I’ve been right here ... mostly.


PROF: Well, people ... including me ... have been wondering why there’s been no “Squiggles and Giggles” recently.


BOB: Oh, THAT ...


PROF: Yes, that. Why haven’t you posted anything? Did you forget?


BOB: No ... 


PROF: Well, I’d certainly say you didn’t REMEMBER ...


BOB: Oh, but I did. I remembered, alright ... almost every day ... 


PROF: Well, then ... why no “Squiggles”?


BOB: Oh, I don’t know ... I guess I thought nobody would notice if I took a little “spring break.”


PROF: And?


BOB: I don’t think anybody did notice.


PROF: No phone calls ... no e-mails ... no twerps and twitters ... or whatever it is those things are called these days?


BOB: Nope. Not even a single twitch. 


PROF: Still, don’t you think you’ve set up some level of expectation ... ?


BOB: Oh, I suppose. But ... you know ... when you’re in the midst of these lazy-hazy-crazy days of whatever, there’s just not much incentive to put on the running shoes and go sprinting down the lanes of random thoughts and poetry. 


-S&G-


AS I SAID, this conversation may have taken place ... maybe not. Guess we’ll just have to take a look at the tapes. Now where do you suppose those things ARE?


-S&G-


TODAY’S POEM: I can usually recall the starting point ... the impetus ... of something I've written. Not so in this case.


It might be because I've written so many. It becomes a bit difficult to recall precisely what triggered each one.


I have a feeling, though, that this one promised to be a longer piece ... perhaps a short story. I was letting my imagination run free on this scene from the close of the day. I'm not sure where it was headed ... its ultimate destination.


Writing is like that sometimes. I always like to get the words on paper ... those bits and pieces of thought which come to me of their own accord ... for, on later reflection ... and a bit of tweaking ... they may turn into something worth keeping and sharing.


This one didn't go on to bigger things. But I liked the descriptive phrases, and it appears that the editor liked them, too.


With that, here's the poem:


AT SUNSET


Dying embers of day
arc slowly on drapes
drawn tightly
like an old man's mouth
sealed against saying
that which must
not be said. His room,
steeped in darkness,
recalls a steely pool
of tension, burdened
dome of sky,
dark leaves stirring
now, a gathering
of thoughts seeking
shelter for the night.
© 1999
(originally published in Potpourri)


-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-


And 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.




-S&G-


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


-S&G-


©  2010