Coming and goings and musings and moanings (oh cute, it rhymes) of the attenuated writer.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
The nail
The nails are growing long again as the stunted one from he accident with the wood burning stove grows slowly with ugly ripples and dents. I tell time best these days by those dents, rather like the circles in a tree or more accurately by how a rope tied tightly to a trunk become encircled by it over time. I am in it's third month if I remember correctly in these odd times. So much has changed. A grand child born. A son struggling with creativity the cruelest mistress of all. Another son trying to make up for time, so much lost and in love, wanting to be good enough. And I think in my quiet moment how lucky they are to be alive. But I don't want to remind them of that pain, create an obligation of happiness.
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