Thursday, February 7, 2013

Next in the Ongoing Poem Series About the Winter of 2006


January 18, 2006
A hard morning

Both miserable with work stress
Bill seriously sad in the first-year-teacher way for the first time in ages
and me a wreck with my boss about to be gone for four months
Everyone left the house feeling frankly terrible

And yet there were such strange sharp
stabs of beauty on the walk to work
almost confusing
how the nearly-black clouds and fragments of bright blue sky
can look gorgeous when I’m feeling sad
How the oil-slick swirling in rainbow smears in the puddles
can look pretty when I am unhappy

Emotionally it doesn’t make any sense
and yet of course it just is
Things really are
They are outside ourselves so wholly and entirely
that they really do exist independent of our tiny feelings
Really
They do
It’s so strange

image source is here

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