Getting Restless

I like the look of the lights against this adobe home and the symmetry of the cross centered in the window. Peaceful.

The rain didn't let up yesterday. I had a lot of time to spend at my desk. I've discovered I can't stay with one task, one project, for a whole eight hours. I begin to feel restless and look for other things to do. After about 90 minutes of researching an article, I felt a deep desire to take out the garbage even though it was pouring rain. And though I knew I had to finish a synopsis, a couple of hours of arranging and rearranging 3X5 note cards had me wishing the bathroom wasn't already clean.

But Boz got a good walk. And John had a nice dinner waiting for him when he got home.

And now it's pouring again. Today, perhaps I can learn to stay at each project a little longer.

How about a poem?

Horses and Men in Rain, by Carl Sandburg (Cornhuskers, 1918)

Let us sit by a hissing steam radiator a winter's day, gray
wind pattering frozen raindrops on the window,
And let us talk about milk wagon drivers and grocery delivery 
boys.

Let us keep our feet in wool slippers and mix hot 
punches--and talk about mail carriers and messenger boys
slipping along the icy sidewalks.
Let us write of olden, golden days and hunters of the Holy
Grail and men called "knights" riding horses in the rain, in the
cold frozen rain for ladies they loved.

A roustabout hunched on a coal wagon goes by, icicles drip on
his hat rim, sheets of ice wrapping the hunks of coal, the
caravanserai a gray blur in a slant of rain.
Let us nudge the steam radiator with our wool slippers and 
write poems of Launcelot, the hero, and Roland, the hero, and 
all the olden golden men who rode horses in the rain.