This weekend I was in a very bad mood. The sun was shining - it was a bit nippy, but that wasn't it. Just kind of realizing that my parents have passed on and I was very close to them. My dog died last November and my kids seem to be really out of my life for the most part. My daughter is local and was spending quite a bit of time with us, but now has a boyfriend and has sort of cut us off. I am enjoying being with my husband - we do a lot together, but I think I just feel a lot of loss. Maybe I just need to get a cat or something - I have been thinking about it. I am also tired of the election politics at this point. I just want it to be over. We did go apple picking on Sunday - Ida Reds and golden delicious. Fresh picked apples are so crisp and delicious. I also made an apple crisp when I got home - it is of course gone by now. This all seems so boring and mundane - I must leave this post with a poem.
Sad unfair crazy bad luck
Her clothes never matched
polka dots met stripes
in colorful disharmony
Her shoes never tied
quietly clicking on the floor
tripping and slipping
Those curls in her hair sprung in every direction
kinky and unkempt
flopping wildly as she trudged down the hall
that runny nose
no kleenex I suppose
Some behind her back
Some to her face
they pointed and jeered
never slowing the pace
She had no one to call a friend
talking to herself
laughing at private jokes
to this unhealthy drama there seemed no end
until that day she came no more
We all sat in silence watching the door
her very existence becoming only lore
Later we heard she was hit by a truck
Talk about your sad unfair crazy bad luck
Tom Motes said "good riddance"
I yelled back "shut up - you dumb f--k!
3 comments:
A lonely day, sounds like. My parents are also dead, and my sister doesn't speak to me. I miss the feeling of being a part of a family. I have my wife's family, of course, but even after 37 years, they still don't seem like my family too.
I very much enjoyed the poem.
It's funny - I think I am writing this blog like my own personal diary even though I know others can read it. Thanks for taking the time to comment. It's always comforting to know that others share some of the same feelings for the very same reasons. Glad you liked my poem - I like it too.
My blog is my diary too, although I prefer the word journal because I think of a diary as being mundane (like Pepys) as opposed to expansive (like Thoreau)
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