Baskets of Prospects

Doors open and doors closes. Everyone is in a room, I’m out in the hallway. Watching and wriggling with shades of green on postcards, nestled in a cradle, inappropriately placed in the corridors. Time drives by and I age a year each day.


O, all the time we scurried to places, on the inside we worried, and to see all the faces made us happy. Onward, the ocean we look blurry, to get free and we hurried. Sit in the midst of time, where the wind swings chimes and we’re never weary.


35 thoughts on “Baskets of Prospects

  1. The first part reminds me of the poor guy in Kafka’s “Before the Law” parable in “The Trial.” All those doors and the angst of passing (or failing to pass). Now I’m going to have to go find that Orson Welles version!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. The hurry scurry of the quick
    . . . but not the dead
    for age shall no longer weary them,
    nor the falling tears of years condemn.
    From behind the veil
    a postcard to send
    Life is for the living.
    Don’t let the wheels of regret
    drive you around the bend.

    Liked by 2 people

      1. I could never keep up with them . . .
        Kerouac would be well down the track
        With Burroughs sprinting like a demon
        And Ginsberg giving Dylan a piggy back
        I’d be in the gutter of poetry
        coughing up phlegm 😎

        Liked by 1 person

      2. We but stand on the shoulders of giants.
        It’s interesting that many of the Beat poets
        met at school in the 50’s. Or more correctly,
        University … Only to be unleashed on an unsuspecting U.S. in the 60’s.

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Such is how I feel life is in the hallway listening and observing the laughter and tears coming from the room down the hall. Sometimes I wonder if it’s shear madness or just the way we work things out in life. The ocean and nature a distraction, a place to can rest the heart and mind, I feel from this piece. Lovely illustration. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Always every day life surprises me and makes me smile. I love the sense of knowingness I get when a hoped for thing graces me life. It makes all the other stuff worth it. I like hallways 🤗🙋🏼‍♀️

        Liked by 1 person

  4. This is how I interpret it.
    Being in the hallway while the others are in the room and at the end something about the wind and that we don´t worry, paraphrasing here obviously so my interpretation is that the character avoids the reality. Probably I´m wrong, you have a way of writing that is great. I can´t go that deep with such wonderful words and not make it obvious what I want to transmit.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You were exactly right! I was writing fromm the perspective of a baby who is out in the hallway while the “adults” sit and discuss life in the rooms. More than avoding, the character doesn’t have any idea about the truth so he just doesn’t worry. You’re a genius!

      Like

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