(Sunday night in the)

Sunday night in the
backyard, irritated with
the dictionary

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

(I wrote this haiku)

I wrote this haiku
because I didn't have a
new one to send you.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

Back-Up Sweater

I've got a sweater that smells like
"cabinet." It lives in my filing
cabinet at work and lies in wait for
unexpected, indoor arctic blasts
and unsightly wardrobe catastrophes.
A hand-me-up from my little sister,
the black cardigan sports
endearing, white pill balls and
a hole in the armpit region.
Despite its geriatric-like shrinkage,
I can't bring myself to throw
the poor thing away, remembering
all the years and relationships
and jobs and moves that we've
weathered together.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

The Bathroom Game

When it comes to the ladies' room,
there are rules to abide --
unspoken standards to uphold,
understood etiquette -- pee-pee protocol
and doo-doo decorum, if you will.
This code of conduct especially
relates to the public work restroom.
Those who play the game will
experience the least amount of
nasal discomfort and embarrassment.
Those who refuse to adopt the laws
of the stalls, will suffer the due penalty.

Rule #1: Enter said establishment.
Rule #2: Scout out the available stalls.
Rule #3: Match up the ladies at the sinks to the appropriate toilets.
Rule #4: Avoid entering the stall that was most recently vacated, at all cost.
Note: This will require quick assessment and problem-solving skills on your part.
Rule #5: When possible, allow for an empty stall between you and the next pottier.
Rule #6: Select the best choice at that moment.
Rule #7: Toilet as necessary.
Rule #8: Proceed to your assigned sink.
Rule #9: While washing hands, glare at any noncompliant pottier, letting the offender know that she is out of line.
Rule #10: Exit the establishment and wish any incoming traffic good luck.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

Between the Lines and Me

I like to hold books and
magazines and CD booklets
in my hands. Electronic
versions don't allow
for handling and care
and communion between
the author, the pages,
the words and the reader.

I like to live in a book --
to touch and participate,
to make notes in the margins,
to bravo, to question, to laugh.
There is a quiet exchange
between the lines and me,
a silent interaction (though
sometimes I laugh out loud
or sigh with great delight).

Every new book is a
literary cornucopia --
full of wit, mystery,
inspiration, wisdom --
a word awaiting, a
new world to discover,
to experience, to embrace,
a friend to keep on the
shelf of my heart.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

(cute)

cute:
a chirp from
my happy cat

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

Healing Like a Whisper

It's funny how healing arrives
so quietly,
so gracefully,
in such contrast to the
rage and unmanageable
chaos of unhealthy
relationships, addictions
and personal pandemonium
that blow in like a hurricane,
exploiting your most
precious possessions;
ripping life right out
of your fingertips.

The peace appears
so softly,
so subtly,
on tiptoes;
without introduction --
like a whisper --
telling me that health
and new life are here;
that the things which once
consumed me no longer
burn within me, but have
been relinquished and
replaced with healing balm.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

Bookstore Boar

"We have a no-snoring
policy," she assured me
from behind the counter.
The large man in the
true blue sweat suit and
camouflaged vest had been
disturbing my reading for
10 minutes and counting.
The deep, nasal vacuum
vortex sounded more like
an industrial machine
than a man. The barista
called for the manager
as I angrily took out
my notebook to write.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

Good Use of Time

I read a poem during the
three minutes my
tea was steeping.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

I'm Becoming a True Introvert

My favorite evenings consist of
a big bowl of mint chocolate chip
ice cream and an equally tasty book.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

My Girl

She knows how to be
cute.
She knows just the
right pose or look
to give me that will
send me into a
state of acute
appreciation --
the kind that seizes
me until I pet her velvet
coat.
She knows the cutest
ways to meow and
purr and stir her paws.

And she knows it.

She knows she's
cute.
And there's no way
I can help myself
from loving and
stroking and cooing
and thinking how
lucky I am to have
found her.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

Bliss

Sitting at home with
a new book,
new magazine
and two new CDs.

More Bliss:

All bought on sale.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

In Those Last Moments

What must it have been like
to know that you were about
to be torturously beaten and
brutally crucified? I wonder
if He reviewed His time on
earth in the Garden of
Gethsemane, flipping
through the slide show of
His mind. Did He think of
His family -- His father's
smile, His mother's embrace,
His siblings' laughter --
His favorite adventures,
His favorite foods, His closest
friends? Did He rub His hands
and feet, nauseous at the
thought of the massive nails
ripping their muscles and
snapping their bones? I wonder
if, in His mind's eye -- with the eye
of the Spirit -- He saw the faces
of those He healed and
delivered, and the faces
of all those yet to be freed.
Ultimately, in those last
moments, He saw the face
of God, the will of His Father.
He said "no" to His flesh and
His emotions and "yes" to the
Kingdom of Heaven, as
He knelt one last time and
said, in essence,
"Your Kingdom come.
Your will be done."

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

(happiness is)

happiness is
sushi and ice cream
with a friend

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

(every morning)

every morning
Asian man
walking the sidewalk

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

(puffy clouds)

puffy clouds
low enough to pass
for a second tree line

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

I Wonder What You Are Thinking, But I'm Not Going to Try to Find Out

Twenty months after our last
good-bye, you left a message
on my voicemail account at work
to wish me a happy birthday.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

(colors flirt with)

colors flirt with
the morning sky
horizontal rainbow

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

Tea by Invitation

Tea is a lady's drink.

There's a quiet strength inside those leaves.
Tea does not assault the body, like coffee.
Rather, it washes over the system, by invitation,
lending what is desired -- be it flavor, repose or
wakefulness. Tea is a song of celebration,
a song of comfort, a song of centricity.

Tea is a lady's drink.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

Woman of the Word

for Julie Jarrett Hall

I remember walking through the backyard
behind our little brick house, singing the lines
to your songs during my afternoon playtime.
I felt important, knowing all the words and
the melodies. Proud of myself, I sang the
verses and choruses out loud, feeling some
sense of connection with your songs and
with you. On those hot summer days, I was
proud of myself, proud of you and proud
to be your daughter.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall