I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Story Bone

Being family means being able to forgive each other of almost anything. Almost. For some things there is never solace or reprieve, no matter the necessity or righteousness of it. Traveling to this year's Memorial Day gathering of the clan feels like going to my own funeral. It must be done, and done well. When the fall is all that's left, it matters very much.

2 comments:

Catherine said...

Treat yourself well after words. You're worth it.

Steve Buchheit said...

Thanks, Catherine.