Nov 07

2009. is now.

Oct of 2008
One year and a half
of whipping like a rag in the wind.

Grief born words and convolutions
free fall dream strange living
and the guitar was an anchor
and weights became the clicking of my heels
and prayer, so out of fashion now, became a meditation
which stilled my being in the midst of weeping
and that one face became the abyss
into which all pain can flow
and the self within the self
in small and faltering steps
pulled itself together
and found some chance to smile.

and then a miracle happened
or maybe it was fate

She loves me.
still and again.

Nov 07.
in an instant
and a hug
a glass of wine upon the rug
and the path of the future has one certainty
she will be my wife.