off the blue walls of this room,
The other day I was ricocheting slowly off the junk piles in the hundred corners of this house waiting to be packed
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano, from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
moving like in a room of mirrors, from distorted book pile to muliplied toy pile to junkyard of medals, to stacked high paper pile to medly of coloured pens pencils markers massage balls binoculars, letters in assorted unsorted boxes
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.
when i found myself in Maycomb Alabama in a tangle that i knew would unravel in the hands of expert Lee,
hugging Dill when he says his parents dont need him and hugging Scout when she says Atticus couldn't get by a day without her
Hoping in the messy nest that is home
My kids feel scoutish more than dillish
And that they continue to do so in our new home
Where miraculously every object will have its place and return there unbidden when not needed so it can always be found
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