December 25, 2018

ready *

The boiler is expressing something that sounds like protest.
I can hear an intermittent whining all the way to the second floor.
Even the appliances are ready for a new year. 
I make the rounds of the house, straightening knickknacks and magazines.
This time, I say to no one in particular, I will do a better job with dusting.
I will read the fine print before signing my name or committing my resources. 
Afterward, I microwave leftovers and put the electric kettle on.
I think of all the letters I might send, now that I have everyone's address.
Moments later, I am watching news bloopers and opening another caramel.
Baby steps, I tell myself, as if I'm teaching myself to walk all over again. Baby steps.