"All night the sound had / come back again, / and again falls / this quiet, persistent rain."
It's a cold, rainy night. I just took a quick walk to the store. Something about this kind of weather makes me feel a kind of peaceful sadness. A sadness for how we are, I am, ultimately isolated and alone. Despite all the dear people in my life I care about and who care about me. I'm not really sure why I'm writing this down.
I realized tonight, that Mother's Day is Sunday, so I got out the watercolors (actually they were already out) and made my mother a card with a Robert Creeley poem on it. I sort of feel bad for not remembering sooner. My mother really does so much I appreciate, though it may sound trite. I don't really just mean doing my laundry when I was a kid. I mean I'm lucky our relationship is more like a friendship. . . .Aw.
I realized tonight, that Mother's Day is Sunday, so I got out the watercolors (actually they were already out) and made my mother a card with a Robert Creeley poem on it. I sort of feel bad for not remembering sooner. My mother really does so much I appreciate, though it may sound trite. I don't really just mean doing my laundry when I was a kid. I mean I'm lucky our relationship is more like a friendship. . . .Aw.