Skip to content

Echoes

The rain’s come. Whether the city will be blown as the hype suggests, we’ll soon see. Spent the dry part of the morning biking furious and thinking about those that’ve most marked my past. Those that return to memory and haunt moments as sight pulls itself out of sleep. In good and bad ways, the marking, I mean. Mostly they are women, and mostly they are those I never had the strength or presence of mind to share more time with. The could have been is always a more resilient phantom than the horribly played out.

It is striking the way they resemble each other: not in body, but in the quiet, resolute way they are anchored in the the world’s churning. Knowing shine in the eyes that usually was knowing sadness. Striking too that they were most often (tho not always) someone else. There for a moment. Gone. We both on our way.

Categories: Asides.

Comment Feed

No Responses (yet)



Some HTML is OK

or, reply to this post via trackback.