Ode To A Handy Man By Beverly Berkenbilt
The light rests o’re my table glowing in the morning dark, mindful of its new switch, pretty as a meadow lark.
Soaking in a steaming hot tub, no leaking pool for me, I watch the bubbling water captured until it’s freed.
The closet door glides open its contents on display, whatever shall I wear on this bright and tidy day.
So many needed repairs, so much restored like new, the house a shining jewel, alas, could I be fixed, too?
Caveats and Asterisks by Beverly Berkenbilt
So many asterisks, so many caveats, explaining and declaiming our lives, “don’t ever, if this happens, in case of, should you, not to, but, if... never!”
Tiny squiggles, like little ink spills, blot the page warning us in four point pica of dire consequences if we do this or that or anything.
Let’s be bold for just a moment, live on the edge of the erasure, with a leaping faith of confidence that good things will happen anyway.*
*Well... maybe.
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