Earlier this year, it seemed that promise existed for something more than this - almost April, almost spring, almost home, almost sure of something beyond uncertainty. My perspectives change by the day - literally, since I have been traveling without abandon. Kansas City, Dallas, San Antonio, Chicago, Los Angeles, San Francisco, New York. Soon, Cleveland, New York for a month, then some days in SF. Much past these days, I am not quite sure of my plans - return to university? Some time off? A trip out of the country? Just some days at home? I cannot say any more - again, beyond my control.
I wonder sometimes where this time falls, in what mode that it collects itself. Do I hold a reservoir of these days for introspection, or is it only the moment that remains as my reflection, like raindrops that settle on the pavement and then evaporate at the turn of sunshine? Sometimes, I wonder these things, before I am distracted by the days that have passed. Sitting at my desk at the end of March, I wonder first - whatever happened to March?
I wonder sometimes where this time falls, in what mode that it collects itself. Do I hold a reservoir of these days for introspection, or is it only the moment that remains as my reflection, like raindrops that settle on the pavement and then evaporate at the turn of sunshine? Sometimes, I wonder these things, before I am distracted by the days that have passed. Sitting at my desk at the end of March, I wonder first - whatever happened to March?
Comments