(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