A light comes on.
It looks like a tiny submarine or a teapot with ambition.
I stare at it
like we share a language.
Some fold easily.
Some attack your fingers.
Some never return to the bag they came in.
Mine has opinions.
So do I.
I found soup from a season I cannot identify.
It might be dinner.
It might be archaeology.
Either way,
it has frost confidence.
The words are small.
The diagrams are smaller.
The arrows suggest a level of patience I do not currently have.
I squint with purpose.
A simple sandwich.
No cooking project.
No cleanup drama.
Just lunch behaving itself.
# # #
Was this worth your time? A Like tells me it landed.
Steady on,
Bill Black
Porch Caretaker, Humble Observer
Before you wander off, here are a few more:
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