Saturday, February 05, 2011
Not Supposed To
I am not supposed to sit, idly, like a stump.
I am not supposed to lose my keys, my crochet hook, my nerve, my heart.
I am not supposed to lose sight of the good and the beautiful, the nearly endless mercies.
I am not supposed to neglect... anything, or anyone.
I should not be obtuse, or evasive, maudlin, melancholy, or bitter.
I cannot turn my back, or let go... but I would like to. Right now, I would like to.
I think Chango knows where Ferris is. What happened. Chango has not left the house. Not to wander. Not to part with us. I think he knows what happened.
I think if Ferris returned, because sometimes these miracles happen, I think I would still be in over my head, but it would feel so good to see him, and enjoy all of the many stinky-pinky things he did.