Through My Window

one twiggy icicle

a slender naked branch

winter blossom dying

as it is born

in the cradle of the sun

Poem and photo by Elizabeth W. Seaver

Pajama Day 23/30

Pajama Day, collage/acrylic, 6 x 6

Elizabeth W. Seaver

Marvin refused to wear regular clothes. They poked and pulled on his softest places, and he loved being comfortable above all things. He was a busy boy, and he didn't have time for the distraction of a pinchy waistband. Luckily, he'd been able to sneak away from the house before his mother saw him this morning and made him change his clothes. He kept to the wooded paths where he had the best chance of escaping unnoticed. Then nosy neighbors might not see him as they flew over and call his mom to tattle on him.

His favorite pair of pajamas zipped up the front. Best of all, they had the feet in them. Then, no bother of crouching down, getting red in the face while he tried to remember how to tie his tennis shoes. "Rabbit ears in the hole...pah!" He was too busy to learn that--besides if he had his way, shoes would soon be completely unnecessary. Marvin was currently designing a whole line of pajama-inspired outerwear.  He'd set aside this morning's ride to brainstorm baseball pajamas with cleats on the bottom.

"At the very least, there should be no tie shoes in the world, only slip-on ones." Marvin dreamed. "Flip-flops. I wish I could meet the person who invented flip-flops. What a genius!"