Thursday, March 11, 2010

Prole

The feeling of adulthood, heavy in the gut: is: 1:1; action/reaction, everything being exactly what it is, resting where placed.

As a child I showed more mercy to injured birds, comforting them in their inevitable deaths, shoebox upon shoebox, than I do to my own life. My own precious life, finite, unguaranteed. My own precious life. My own small and precious life. Frail thing. Untended. Unguarded. Exposed.

No comments: