It's Still Life

Careful.

There’s that word again; meant to pull you up and stop you in your tracks; take stock; change your ways; a word to the wise or the unwise as the case might be.

And he says, “Good god, it’s dreary outside.

And I’m standing beside him at the window, taking in this man I married 44-years ago, our similarities, our differences, what bridges our past and present, and all I see through the window is the stark beauty of nature sleeping … snowflakes drifting through the branches of ancient birch stripped of green at the end of the garden, and two black birds waiting for something below ground to move the soil.

He and I do this once every ten or so years, where we rattle the roof and tear apart each other’s cages, and then settle back into our shoes again – it’s like blowing the spiderwebs off each other before we suffocate in our cocoons.

But this time is different; he’s using the careful word.

Written for Denise’s Sunday’s SSS (Six Sentence Story including the word “Stock”) . Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2023.