Today I just sat. This at my cute bedroom window. I say cute because I put a lot of work into it. It's a pre-war apartment. Lots of nice woodwork. Which for now I can still afford.
I was sitting there because I'm working on my digs. Plastering painting, and generally bringing more order into the world.
However.
In addition to the sickness in my building. The death here, and on my block. The 100,000 souls lost in this republic to the Virus.
Besides that our Race War re-ignites.
Deaths fires official cruelties gross venal insanities from our head of state.
The constant sound of ambulances is joined by cop cars fire engines, and police helicopters 24/7...everyday all day.
So I sat.
I sat by my bedroom window.
My ladder paints, and brushes ready.
The time passed. The sun's shadows moved across my floor.
It grew to dusk. Still I sat.
Time last stopped like this when my brother John passed.
Before that other passing's of family, and old friends,....time stops.
No heart to work.
The sun makes it's arc, and night comes.
Sirens wail on. The wind billows my curtains.
I wish I lived in a time when I could have gone fishing with Walt!
ReplyDeleteA Song of Joys
In winter I take my eel-basket and eel-spear and travel out
on foot on the ice ~ I have a small axe to cut holes in
the ice.
Behold me well-clothed going gayly or returning in the
afternoon, my brood of tough boys accompanying me,
My brood of grown and part-grown boys, who love to be with
no one else so well as they love to be with me,
By day to work with me, and by night to sleep with me.
~ Walt Whitman
from Leaves of Grass
Our dear Uncle Walt,...
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