Some days

3 03 2011

Some days you have no choice but to trade jeans for pajamas before 7 o’clock.

Some days you will sign over a check for fully half of all the money in the world that isn’t even yours. You will peer into that well beneath the teller’s box and see no gold, no silver, only a handful of tarnished copper.

Some days you will be so yearning for beauty you will walk into the bookstore and spend hours smearing oil over the hearts of all the collected poets. They will all move you, but there will be one whose voice stirs your heart far more than all others. Gather your scattered coppers together and lay them at her feet; if you are lucky it will be enough for her to lead you home.

Some days you will leave the house in the sun, walk to the bus in the rain, and gather hailstones in your coffee cup.

Some days you will find the place on which you are building your foundation has been shaken to its core. You will discover that you have been sharing space, teachers, coffee, friends with a man who is no longer for this world. You will learn that those who have been supporting you are all leaning upon one another, and you will see what happens to the whole house of cards when any one is removed.




Sonny, I did not know you, but I miss you.




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