Spirits Talking
Prose poem story and verse about acceptance.
I need a plumber.
My shower was broken. That wasn’t a new thing. It’d fallen apart every six months since I’d purchased my home. But I always did the repairs and it would work for another six months. This was not a problem for me.
I can’t fix it anymore. That is a problem for me. I need to call a plumber.
So, how do I get a shower? Go use a friend’s shower! My tote stuffed with fluffy pink towels, homemade lavender body wash, and a container of leftovers, I took a drive to my old country neighborhood for a shower and visit with old friends.
To be clear, I showered alone.
On my way home, I drove to the small farm I used to own.
Fenced pastures
gentle slopes
small cropland
and woods nestled
along the river.
Willows stand
mighty oaks
sandy beaches
and deer nested
along the river.
Winding pathways
grapevine arches
wild plum fruit
and raccoon tracks
along the river.
