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
Advertisements
Oh I know those feelings well…cheers!
Yes. And – I love you.
I love you too, Val. Thank you for that
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
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!
love you. xo
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
i did 🙂 sometime you can hug ’em yerself. wouldn’t THAT be fun day!
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
I think I’ll sling a shot of single malt down,or 2 right now, Sarah
Peace to you,
Laz
I really love the first part of this one. Wonderful.
I hope god things come in through that window