She caught me leaning into last week,
I wanted to see if it still existed.
From there I might go anywhere,
I was thinking.
Bring my feet back over my head
For a short time suspend the struggle
to be in the here and now.
Back to people and places,
back to when anything seemed possible,
back to the fear and the fretting
without any longer being afraid.
More taking in hand,
more brute kindness,
more lifeboat wisdom,
them that’s got will do better
because finally, they are in the know.
To live it again the others must do it, too,
and in the same instance,
which is why it doesn’t work, I suppose.
Then she says, out of the blue:
Let’s go back, you and me,
let’s do what we did together last week,
now that we know, we’ll make it even better.
Such wisdom, woman.
This fool is tumbling in the opposite direction.
C’est la vie.
Sunday morning is to wonder,
I’ll make the breakfast.