Today, I will eat ice cream
Today, I will eat ice cream,
light a candle
and think.
Loss and life and loved ones;
but not so melancholy -
I hear birds singing
after all.
Today is my father's birthday. He would have turned fifty-seven. I like to imagine him with robust good health, silver hair and moustache and just a little bit of a belly. Prone to laughter and blarney. I don't miss him overly much; the draw of the blue sky and the business of living have long since crowded out my tendency towards obsessive reverie. I feel I should mark the occaison somehow, though, as an expression of respect. Marking the occaison, I will then go about my business, and I have every reason to believe that today will be gorgeous and glorious and good.
light a candle
and think.
Loss and life and loved ones;
but not so melancholy -
I hear birds singing
after all.
Today is my father's birthday. He would have turned fifty-seven. I like to imagine him with robust good health, silver hair and moustache and just a little bit of a belly. Prone to laughter and blarney. I don't miss him overly much; the draw of the blue sky and the business of living have long since crowded out my tendency towards obsessive reverie. I feel I should mark the occaison somehow, though, as an expression of respect. Marking the occaison, I will then go about my business, and I have every reason to believe that today will be gorgeous and glorious and good.