sweeping up after myself

It was just after 4:30 Friday afternoon I leaned back on a comforter smooshed against the wall, crosswise on the bed, and returned a call I missed from my friend Kate in Missouri. Kate had called around 1:00 and I must have disconnected pulling the phone out of my pocket, walking down Woodstock Avenue, tagging along after and then walking away from a ghost. Flustered. Broken-hearted. One of those times when breathing feels optional.

I attempted to leave Kate a late-afternoon message and there was an unexpected beep and just about then I fell into a dreamy sleep – an in between how it is…..and how it is.

Now it’s 5:20 as I type and I was hearing rain on the skylight. This morning, some 17 hours ago, sitting on the cushion under the skylight, I had a realization I was actually missing the rain. I flashed on the inevitability of sunshine in Southern and Central Coast California, and how easy that was. Things are not so easy here, though each day has come to fetch me with offers of gifts and quiet praise. We all said it back in the day – “Keep on keepin’ on.”

I shaved some of the hair off my head today. I believe the physicality of tired has landed on this door step.

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