a man is rich in proportion to the number of things which he can afford to leave alone + Henry D Thoreau
+
the now +
when you are so close
so close, to the new part of your life + take it for granted at 35 + i did + here at 60 there is no y or why in the road +
we are just here, nearly on our own now + we are aware of decades of our lives lived, and frankly, experiencing a new sort of excitement for the years ahead + our skin is thin + our hair is thin + but our memories, if we are fortunate and spent enough time in the light of the moon laying out glass jars of water and soaking our soulstones in the moonlight, are yet to be formed +
the then +
my seventeen year old self was so busy daydreaming about Ben Orr telling her that she wouldn’t give up because she’s 17 + she nearly missed cultivating the wisdom of her Hey 19
oh, Ben… kiss my face…
the then +
then ahead lightspeed there was a time, and i’m old enough to understand the knife-thin line between and wedging into the space between age and agelessness, a man whispered to the seventeen year old me + he sent me songs through an iphone and it felt like talking to rick all night on shirley’s rocking chair in the alcove, and it felt like promise of friendship, and i’m still wondering, now a decade later…
the between +
how do we know? friend, possible soul brother, just another guy wanting to escape his own cage, in a particular time, in a particular place, never but never to walk the sand with me + the almost tragedy, but my heart was already linked and bound by document and signatures to a dead human stone, and so i only carry the memory of another man’s smile, his eyes, his knowing hand in my innocent hand… that is all there was, but i carry it +
where I’ll be +
there is something so close that i’ve seen what it may resemble + i’ve heard a voice + i’ve felt my face turned up into some sunlit sky, and all those missing weeks and months and years will just show up at my feet, and they will have a new face + there will be a new him + and I will be me again +
here’s a thing, that delicate connection + premature and too soon + i’m gonna let it groove and sway + certain long haired sweet looking mr. who is calling me by my first name +
to be continued…
above + my cosmos 2026
Artichokes bal harbour beach walk cappuccino divorce doylestown elizabethalwayseverywhere feet in the sand first wife Good-bye Blue good food INTJ karma life one of those years Peas thalassophile thoughts virgo writing