yes, that's how old i'm going to be tomorrow.
i will go to see a movie,
herzog's cave of forgotten dreams.
today i had a phone conversation that made me think.
and an email, too.
and while i am celebrating becoming older,
a friend i never knew has said good bye,
leaving stones.
yesterday i walked in the old meadow and woods, down to the stream.
i found a tick on my sleeve.
back home i checked for more.
i showered and shampooed
remembering that little crab scrabbling up my arm.
it wasn't a deer tick, but it was a tick.
i've never seen one here before
and that is how life is, changing,
always changing,
the great cave holds mystery, or graffitti?
does it matter?
what matters is that fabric
called life
which can break and be mended,
it may be dark or light or dense or gauze
this making and wearing a life
is essential. it's light
like feathers
like milkweed in the wind
and heavy, a stack of army blankets.
dense, worn, used.