(un)titled
3/2/2023
The truth about other people Con/Jur/d, 3/2/2023 February, a month of sighs not enough sleep, hard to leave the warmth, the cloying in-between -- Get out, get out! The sun glints on headstone feldspar standing just outside the gate not willing to go in today -- Too cold The house has been left hardly the glories of leaving home the monks praise, people taking up -- Too much space And despite the scarf and heavy jacket, he’s easy to recognize even without his old pitbull -- You knew Gus, didn’t you? Sure, he redid our bathrooms made plenty of mistakes, a stalwart companion for several weeks -- Was wondering how he was doing Apparently, he, along with others died last year and they’d known each other for 30-od, been through thick and thin -- She’s been dead three years now And without asking, know he’s referring to his canine companion unbidden, “He walks a little slower” -- Every day I’ve been seeing eagles We flash peace signs and move towards our respective homes tethered to fleeting glimpses of -- other people's lives
Much love,
Con/Jur/d, 3/2/2023