It has rained for several days here, but I cannot claim that as my excuse for not getting out, particularly as I was failing to walk (except for my coffee walks at work) long before the bad weather. But today was sunny, and I kept telling myself I should enjoy the sun and unstale air outside my small house. Of course I waited until nearly sundown.
I can't help but think such procrastination is a metaphor for much of my life. I wait until there almost isn't any time left, and then jump in, or rather crawl in, flailing with all the energy of a slug escaping salt.
Today I mourn a loss. I haven't cried about it, perhaps because I cannot believe the loss is forever. I don't cry, but it is hard to move. But move I must do.
i drink this shiner
not to remember, forget,
or honor your life
sipping from the brown bottle
i placate my bitterness
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