Because

Out there, there are the trees I didn’t climb,

The mountains I didn’t ascend,

Continue reading “Because”

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Mondays

There may be a day some time in the future when I no longer care about you.   The familiar feeling of your embrace would be like a memory of a good book I’ve read, or a movie I’ve seen.  Like a memory of my hand in David’s in the Azalea Garden, in June of 2007.  So what if I remember the month and year, I am good with calendars, that’s all.  It might have been May, too.  When do the azaleas bloom?  It was a Tuesday.

About you, I’ll remember there were Mondays. Continue reading “Mondays”