bunt sign

Wednesday, November 14, 2001

I think if I were locked in a box for many years,
and I couldn't see daylight,
and I couldn't hear music,
and I had to be afraid to think for myself
or speak out loud,

and if I always thought
that whoever locked me up
would know
if I even thought about wanting to be free,

then I wouldn't mind
who chased the bad guys away
and opened the box and
let me out
after all that time.

It could even be someone
who once upon a time,
long ago,
had put me in another box,
one just as dark,
and kept me there.

I wouldn't care.

For that moment
I'd be happy to embrace an old enemy,
because now he was a friend
who was letting me breathe again,
and sing and dance
and see the sun in the sky
and hear children playing
and feel the touch of another person
after all that time,

for that moment,
and for a little while afterward,

until I could remember how to think for myself
after all that time.

Japanese wisteria

The wisteria, lush and green just days ago, is still lush but not as green.

These dank, grizzled days are saved by the light that appears on the horizons, just before dusk. After darkness had wrapped itself around my house all day, the sun burst out in time to shine straight through the open blinds in my bedroom, late in the day, casting slatted shadows on the closet doors. In the east as well, the clouds separated to reveal the faded blue black of the evening sky. Then, before it could seem too real, it was gone. Dark day, bright sunset, darker night, just that quickly, in time-lapse mode.

previousbunt signemailnext

Latest recommendation:

Monique, anyone's any, November 13, the shifting you

Other recent recommendations can be found on the links page.

One year ago: Running On Half a Tank

Subscribe to the list to be notified of updates.