Day 12: Inbetween

The curtain in my state of the art recording studio (did you intuit the sarcasm?) fell down the other day and I thought ara, it will be fine and then I began noticing all these sounds in the back of the tracks. Trucks horning, and heater clicking and floors squeaking and I went a bit mad.  So I rehung the curtain and all is well in the imaginary muffled sound closet of my desires, once again.  Or maybe it is just that there is less construction on Saturdays.  Who can know?  School vacation begins today, and my little poet wants to record some of his material, so we might do that as well.

This poem is about moving from pillar to post, or joy to joy, or escape to escape, it's all perspective.