days like this it’s best to go home
pour a couple fingers of something stiffer
than the current state of your knees
and think about the things that do make sense
like opening the window and letting in December
for a few brisk moments and turning up that jazz
until the riffs absolve you of the sins of the day
– just for a minute, anyway –
or living off the vicarious high of the dogs’
hello’ing tails grinning with a jubilance I think
god reserved just for the canines of the world
or maybe just saying I love you to the ones
who don’t hear it often enough
a stiff drink and a brisk wind might not fix
what ails our hearts, but it’s a better
remembrance than simply breaking apart
under the fearsome brunt of days like this
© Sarah Whiteley
Oh I know those feelings well…cheers!
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Yes. And – I love you.
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I love you too, Val. Thank you for that
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Sarah, thank you for finding the words for me. I still can’t put ‘pen to paper’ – too sad. Sending hugs to you across the miles – K
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I may have found words to express my way of coping, but I cannot for the life of me find the words to express my absolute horror. So I know exactly what you mean about not being able to put pen to paper on something like this.
A great big hug to you, too. You’re a very special person – I see it in all that you share with us. Bless you!
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love you. xo
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back atcha, super-woman… give those munchkins of yours an extra giant squooshy hug from someone who doesn’t have any munchkins nearby to hug
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i did 🙂 sometime you can hug ’em yerself. wouldn’t THAT be fun day!
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So beautifully said…some of those things we can retreat into and remember how simply and unfathomably wondrous life can be in the midst of pain….small blessings. x
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I think I’ll sling a shot of single malt down,or 2 right now, Sarah
Peace to you,
Laz
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I really love the first part of this one. Wonderful.
I hope god things come in through that window
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