Radio

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The fields were fallow and the silos were full. Much of the surrounding farmland had been built-up into suburban neighborhoods but we didn’t mind. 

 

The small country roads had become major thoroughfares and the city planned to widen them but we didn’t mind this either.

 

A vase of purple cone flowers on the kitchen table, the sun warming the windows.

 

We ate the same thing everyday until we didn’t want to eat it anymore. And so, we found something else to eat.

 

We sat on the porch each morning, wishing the commuters well, though we didn’t know their names.

 

And this was our art project - every word uttered, every decision, every thought, we were making something of our own - a reality, a life shared together.

 

In the afternoon, we’d sit by the radio listening to desirable voices and at night, you’d say “come to me” and I always did.