Cafe Stories

The cafe is slow and steady but my writing is sporadic, hiding between thoughts of four hundred word challenges and how I have to get the hair out of the bathroom sink. Images from “The Ring” whistle by and I notice a wasp kill a random bug outside the cafe window. Or maybe it was his own butt the whole time. I’ll never know. The truth is I didn’t feel like writing about the wasp or anything else happening right in front of me but I couldn’t make up anything else more interesting.

The Awake Version

Time passes so fast

once my eyes close

There are times

I close them to think for just a second

And when I opened them

The hours had passed me by like a shooting star

Sometimes I don’t even realize my eyes had closed

And I dream that my day goes on as usual

Then I wake up and realize nothing has been done

Oh so frustrating sometimes that life has to be the awake version of things.

-Saschia

A Precious Thing

I rush to get my work done

Less thought takes less energy

Which sends me off to bed early

I could spend the day contemplating

The balance between Plato’s and Nietzsche’s opinions of “the good life”

But the amount of energy it takes to develop that opinion is far too great

It’d be smushed between diapers, and baby exercises, and naps

-Hot tea-Hot tea gets me through!

Even on these hot days

But these poems they’re rushed because energy is a precious thing for a nursing mommy

-Saschia