The girls and I went to bed early and I only am up to blog and see if the Tooth Fairy came.
I am (still) feeling a huge lack of time and space needed to do some serious meditating and soul searching. I think this feeling was heightened by the weekend away from home. Even though it included a long drive, it's hard to focus on the Meaning of Life while you're dodging semi's on the Grapevine.
Another poem in honor of National Poetry Month. And no, it's not mine. My throat is hurting - is it my body's way of ensuring that I take a day off work, have time and space to think and to write? Protestant Work Ethic vs. Suppressed Existential Crisis. Who will win?!
Caps
People should be open on top like a cup.
A piece of bread should be able to sop
some of us up. We should be milk-like
or like wine. We should not have to be
trying to get our caps off all the time.
The storybook boy attempts the simple gesture
of baring his head for his emperor,
but another hat has appeared.
This happens over and over.
Who does not share his despair of simplicity,
of acting clearly and with dignity?
And what pleasure can we find in the caps,
brightly feathered and infinitely various,
that pile up so high they bury us?
-- Kay Ryan
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