Muttado’s ha’sonnet “an opening” reminded me of this poem I wrote one morning some months ago. Early on in the pandemic when we were told to work from home, and everyone was very stressed, we were given the advice to “use your morning commute time for self-care”…. yeah, that worked.
Dragged untimely
from my womb-warm tub,
by the phone’s persistence,
the phone’s insistence,
I stand dripping,
towel slipping,
out on the porch,
in the flow of the breeze
where I shiver
and freeze.
But the stronger signal
fills the phone,
and with clarity now
words flow to and fro:
Problems are stated,
solutions suggested,
solutions accepted.
With thanks and goodbyes,
I’m left standing bemused,
still wet and exposed,
and now cold and confused
by the question not posed:
to whom am I speaking?
Delightful.
Thank you Roger 🙂
Ha! Problems solved while in states of undress and confusion. And a wonderful poem to boot!
Thanks Stephen. And I still have no idea who I was talking to. 🙂 Which means the solution must have worked.