THEN AND ONLY THEN
Big raindrops. The rain stops and you can see now how big the sky is. Your heart reboots like an old computer left to gather dust, but which is, it turns out, miraculously still alive, though breathing unsteadily now. Joyous, you think words to yourself, processing. There is always so much to do – the clock wheels away in delight. The winter sky is big and you are getting up late, going to bed early, turning in smaller and smaller circles. And all those three-in-the-mornings when you’re awake, you are super-determined to do your absolute best the next day.
COLLAGE OF FACTS
The sad beauty of failures,
the quiet injustices in success.
This is fantastic, this is reality.
“Just how many leaves do the trees
actually have in them?”
“How many times will we sweep them in to a pile?”
“What can we do with them afterwards?”
Were they legal tender
we might afford to
the local legend
we do not know
whether to believe