Red Wheel Barrow
Imagination and Observation prompt
so much depends upon. . .
and nothing at all depends upon. . .
a red wheel barrow
glazed with rain water
beside the white chickens
blue smoke curls upward from a farmhouse chimney rising, without a second thought about the red metal below.
yellow birds flitter through the yard, splashing in the red metal pool. they depend completely, in this moment for a drink and a wash. tomorrow they find a new home, dependent on everyone and no one, everything and nothing home on a branch, a wire, a bush, a barrow. . .
a red boy fills the barrow with pebbles, rolls it to the edge of the wood, sets up glass bottles and lets fly all the stones and a hail of anger and joy. the healing of his spirit dependent on cathartic destruction, the red wheelbarrow is a passive observer.
one can only guess at the idyllic place where white chickens find no dust or mud to sully their feathers. chickens depend on no one, until the black and brown rottwiler rounds the corner, searching for a playmate, and the chickens take frantic shelter in the barrow.
The passerby in his silver car, glazed with rain, makes judgments about all these things. like me, he thinks the owner careless, who would leave a red wheelbarrow in the rain to gather rust and crust, so no one and no thing might depend on it again.
#takingmyownmedicine






