…I hold secrets. I hold them all silently but that has taken years… years in which they never uttered a sound. But they pressed..,
Pileated woodpeckers and trees brushed with the first swash of gold…I luxuriate my mind in the subtleties of nature’s changes.
“Oh, Stephanie. It could always be worse!” I can be – I know it is hard to imagine – the worst of worst patients, a whining, complaining ninny.
Technically, my bosom was clothed in a rather bedazzled brassiere. Even though I had no intention of any action nearing usch exhibitionism, in the moment I could not have cared less.
With the righteousness of a workday’s exhaustion, my mind ran through litanies of gratitude to the universe for anything and everything.
“You. You are light…I am, oddly now, dark..”
As I chase the sun in a daily tandem race with time, I have this dream for myself…and another one too…a selfish desire, no doubt, or maybe one of the best of human miracles.