Putting a smile on the irregular face

This day of miracle-points has nearly reached 7am, so not long till breakfast now. And the thrill of a new toothbrush has never worn off, and I will cry if it does. 

From the shower room to
The bedroom, a skin prickling
Towel wrapped race
Against cold air

At the mist edge, down
By the reed bed, by the stream
A furtive shape of cat slinks
Hoping to blindside a shrew

Babies are awake. Bossy
Dependent variable creatures
Lacking calculated phrases
Express values in tears and smiles

Wakeful infants learn stuff fast
Here is one intently trialling
Up-tucked knees in a pilot
Crawling discovery exercise

In the crawl endeavour, the physical
Method of reductive reasoning is 
Favoured by infants. Each face-plant to
The floor is a catalyst to change

As far as laundry is concerned
Segregation is practical, so if bold
Shades hang on the line, a heap
Of pale is prepped next

I admire the curvilinear handle of the
New toothbrush emerging from the
Blister pack, this time I select the
Fluorescent optimistic pink

Examine my face in the mirror
Critically, whereas I trace beauty
So easily in other faces, and only
Vacuity looks ugly to me

Laugh at my face in the mirror
For being full of irregularities
Permanently tired, in this animated
Moment the beautiful appears

The mirror tells me to scrub
My face gently, and slap on some
Miracle cream, not to feel so
Serious about the skin I’m in


Lisa Southard said…
“Imaginary evil is romantic and varied; real evil is gloomy, monotonous, barren, boring. Imaginary good is boring; real good is always new, marvelous, intoxicating.” Simone Weil

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