that little voice

Watching

I watch.

I watch from my isolation chamber: cozy, confined, comfortable, constricted.

My casa secures me during this time of fear, concern and self-incarceration, so I watch.

I watch the sky lighten, fill with color, provide moisture, heat the planet, and darken.

I watch my roommates tug for possession of canine toys, growling, chasing, then sleeping as siblings soothed by the other’s presence.

I watch the steady swing of the antique clock’s pendulum and hear its deep bass voice announcing each passing hour.

I watch the sun filtering around my garden highlighting one blossom, then another.

I watch the woman in repose. Is she surrendering or readying herself to rise for another encounter?

I watch the antics and mis-actions of government leaders during a time of medical crisis engulfing the planet and causing this ‘social distancing’.

I watch my aloneness, my boredom, my gratitude, my laughter, my rants, my tears. I watch myself.

I watch each day’s progression from birth to death cocooned in my self-imposed cell of exclusion.

This is my life: watching