tabitha

i want to be a woman of action, not of flurry,
she tells me in a quiet, unflurried manner.

trees zip by, yellow smudges; the car hums and my heart jumps at her word-wisdom.

i want to live in peace and rest,
she adds, then stares mona lisa-like into the ever growing darkness. (i consider my own panic-propelled lifestyle, feel chagrined)

she turns eyes bright and continues,
every year i celebrate my birthday eve. it's like new year's eve, except it's the night before my birthday. i find a place of solitude, and i sit and think about the kind of person i want to be. this year i realized how selfish i was being, thinking only of my own character, so i vowed to become considerate.

we pull up to her house, she slips out with a smile and walks unhurriedly to the house where her husband has supper waiting.

tabitha. woman of contemplative beauty.