…
My aunt’s body floated dead in the water when she was only five or six years old. She couldn’t hold on to the hand of her older sister, who later on would become my mother, who was only about twelve years old herself at that time.
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If I were a tree,
I could stand there still.
I would sink deep into my roots and
rest from the haste of life.
…
I haven’t been blogging much lately. Every time I sat down at my desk with the intention to write a post, our now nine-month-old Vader laid down at my feet and looked at me with his puppy eyes. Perfect dog owners don’t grow on trees, they are carefully trained by their dogs -and I knew I had to spend more time with him.
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When my Sorrow was born I nursed it with care, and watched over it
with loving tenderness.
***
There is nothing
left to say,
according to all
who think they’re right –
the right only care
what’s right
the left are far too
interested in what’s left –
I left it there.
It doesn’t feel right.
An older couple is sitting on their favorite bench under the oak trees. “Do you remember how it all started back then?” the woman asks dreamily. Smiling, the old man nods and gives her a kiss.
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The happy Quitter! 