Memories

My father makes pancakes with orange juice, yoghurt
They always come out lightly brown, criss-crossed
On an orange plate on Saturday morning

Perfume samples in magazines remind me of my mother's
thick Vogues stacked by the bathtub
Fashionable time, leisurely reading

I sleep in the room above the piano
In the night, its silent notes float through the spaces in the floorboard
and permeate my pillow, whispering to my ears

Stormy Weather

It's one of those depressing days. December 16th, and it's raining. "Don’t know why there’s no sun up in the sky. Stormy weather..." I can deal with days where it is windy and rainy but not aggressive, but today I am wet, I am cold and I don't want to deal with this. "Life is bare, gloom and mis’ry everywhere. Stormy weather..." I am used to a set pattern of weather, a routine of seasons, each month calls for a specific type of weather. It should not be raining in December. That much I know. "Just can’t get my poorself together, I’m weary all the time."

What a depressing post. Oh well, tomorrow is my birthday so things will be happy... and it will stop raining too.