Moving out

 

OH! My chickens go flying past in the wind

Two brown flutters flapping into the oleander

Fleeing their coop-up coop in escape mode.

But they are just as happy going home

Finding soldier worms to warm their bellies as the cold settles in.

 

I flap into my yard sometimes too

Perching on a tall wrought iron chair to breath the fall

Tossing a rope for the silly, leaping chocolate Labrador

The little kind, the kind they use in gator hunting boats, so they don’t fall into the water and get eaten.

She can clear flower beds and birdbaths and fly down steps, not touching a single one

She can dance with the golden leaves and grab the pecans out of the tree

Crunch

 

I should get something to cook on out there

I should get a hammock so I can sleep in the night breeze

And watch the moon … or the clouds … or the moon AND the clouds

I should move away the dusty piles, last year’s Christmas ornaments, fix the hanging lights and put the wires up safe

I should collect the pecans, crack them, make baggies and cookies out of them for Christmas

I should dance through piles of leaves with the dog (but first clean up her poop)

I should paint the furniture, and while I’m at it, paint the peeling little statue.

 

Because

 

I love flying the coop,

Discovering the forest, hugging the grand kids and touching the ocean

Watching the bunnies and the catfish under the ramp at Elephant Butte

The history in Hillsboro, the Chinese colony, and the brothel

Flapping through the Flor-ee-da mountains looking for rockhound stuff at rockhound park

Talking to the stuffed animals at Adobe Deli, splashing in the Gila River and building dams with Sophie

I love my mother’s house, the sounds of the sewing machine, Bob Dylan and even the firetruck blasting by

Ho-ho-hos, mushroom hunting, riding in the snow in the buggy with my son,

 

But I am just as happy going home

Finding the chickens talking to each other

Sitting with Wednesday friends at Downtown Blues Coffee

The cat looking for food, attention, food in her loud annoying voice

The worlds of Star Wars, Dr. Who, the Addams Family, the baking tent and even the Tulsa King safely tucked away on the screen

Each piece of clutter, a memory

Surrounded by my ancestors, and those to whom I am an ancestor

And there is my iron chair and table out back

Where I should eat my dinner more often.