C’est la vie
So they sail away
Waving and winded
Their hair like
Unfinished stitches.
Inheriting our hands
Our bloodied history
Our layering of apology
Like noise upon snow.
Carpe diem, grab them,
Hold them. Hold them and sing.
Hold them the way you’d mean to
If you knew there was no mourning.
_
"bad idea, right?"
More meetings today, including two terribly fraught ones... including one in the boardroom where 99% of the portraits on the wall are of old...
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Friends and old neighbors shutting it down in honor of John Crawford. _
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At had us pose for this pic up at Aunt R's place on Lake Huron so he could put it up in his dorm. "Don't tur... -
I have the feeling that I’m going to succumb to the season and put out a list of resolutions soon. Just wanted to establish this heads up th...
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