roses, buff, peanutbutter cookies

Today I helped decorate for the Krishna puja. This evening I wrote an autobiographical poem about the experience.

roses

I stood in the sun
pinning fake flowers
to the railing of a short bridge.

Two friends
decorated the gazebo
with fall leaves, more flowers,

and golden things.
It was 100.
I burned the back of my neck.

First I tried to twine
the garland three times.
Then it would run out,

I discovered.
At least it was symmetrical.
My fingers ache from the pins.

One fell into the pond--
with a “plunk” it was gone.
It might have been eaten by a fish.

I once trailed
the tail end of a garland
in murky water

then hoisted it up
and picked pond scum
from a fabric white rose.

This morning we went to Staples so I could photocopy my disability paperwork and buy some tape and white out--well, I messed up the white out purchase. I bought "buff" thinking buff was a synonym for "matte" as in "has been buffed" but I was wrong. Oops. It's a brownish white. Why the heck didn't they call it "buff out" then? Or "off-white out"?

This evening I made peanutbutter cookies in lieu of dinner. I halved the sugar and used whole wheat flour for the flour--they turned out delicious, and I can't imagine them sweeter.