I am grateful for the quiet moments
between the two of us,
soft background voices of the networks…
a stay at home vacation.
He’s happy with games and teams.
No comments, no dialogue, no needless whacky scenes to dissect.
If Norman Rockwell had put me in a painting,
which one would it be?
Josie and I would laugh at work
all through the 90’s.
I can hear her talking,
about wanting to have a life like the American paintings,
the ones where everything seems so normal, functional.
In snow – blanketed pictures of farmhouses and posing people,
standing together, eyes on the camera-
a group selfie intended for this year’s Christmas card,
complete with form letter
written in third person about all the landmark accomplishments.
It’s fine really, just a short page from a movie script.
For a blessed thirty minute break I watch
the news about holiday travel.
In an attempt to make some visual semblance
of the crumbling and regal
saguaro out by the side gate,
I want to resurrect his dignity
from leftover gold and tumbled sable brown pigments
amidst questionable brushes in an old jelly jar.
Copyright © 2013 poetry and art by Susan E. Rowland