Wednesday, February 19, 2014

sixty-three






If, as Vonnegut suggested, we tend to become what we pretend to be then sign me up for the lady who left the bathwater in the tub last night, whose vacuum is still in the hall. Her broom leaned up against a wall.

It's been a hard month so we'll agree that February was designed for those under twenty and I'll understand the best friend I have is also a mother to me.

I know how rare you are, how wealthy you make me.



Today I am grateful for the example of the woman I strive to be.


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