Why do it?

FrozenSawmillCreek

I intended today’s conversation to be about my recent walks in -30 Celcius weather along the nearby Sawmill Creek path through our neighbourhood. It follows a creek that meanders like an untied ribbon until it flows into the Rideau River. How snow squeaked as I walked and beside me the frozen creak rattled, as though something underneath was trying to escape. So many things creaked. Branches creaked from the lightest chickadee whose weight seemed too heavy to bear in this cold. The metal bridge creaked and the tall grasses creaked in the wind. The current creaked under the ice. Three crows creaked as they flapped tree to tree. Continue reading

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Dopey me

I squint
reject sense
decide – yes

Fletcherized fire
on the tip of my tongue
milk chocolate bright
like sunlight sprayed
on a silver car

I dive in saliva pools
I am a hot high
beam at midnight
overdriving I can’t
stop

Later
guilt creeps
swells like a
compost bag
bulging with coffee
grounds and sheared
corn cobs and ragged
lettuce bottoms
it seeps

Ripped apart
dopamine gone
I vow now
to diet.

(Inspired by the Dictionary.com word of the day “Fletcherize”.)