the blank page...
...belies the dense day
...day thick with the fog of worry
...worry having compounded over a life
...blessed with gifts and cursed with loss
...just like everyone else on this vale of tears.
a call goes unanswered...
a wish bends to the wind...
the wind blows my heart hither and yon...
until it sinks to where it must...
into a dream of falling, flying, rust.
once upon a time a boy found his father
when the man was at a loss what to do next
and the universe quietly said: "pause– find: here."
[ Hung out at Mountain Lake in the Presidio at noon, after getting my Covid and flu shots at the SF Free Clinic this morning... ]
