today, someone asked
me what i do.
when i told her
she asked,
“how do you come up with them?”
“i don’t know,” i said.
“i can’t make them stop.”
and it reminded me that
i used to wonder,
are there enough of them?
they seemed so hard to
come by before that
moment, but now,
they’re as plentiful as
the rays of light
blanketing los angeles
in july.
these things,
they’re that rope
i found hanging from
the sky that day,
the one i held,
floating away
as the rest of
the world disappeared.
and as tightly as
i’ve clung to them,
they’re the reason i
can let go
of some things.
8 Comments
I think you found your calling. I love your words. Can’t wait for your book.
one word… eloquent
“WOW”,,,,,,,,that’s all,,,just “WOW”
Your thoughts are so moving I cry
God! You make me cry.
Jerk!
You owe me a beer.
Loved this one, very simple, beautiful.
I really hope you can make an honest living as a writer. You inspire me to put pen to paper again.
Beautiful