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like it has a million times before
I met a preacher today, my husband and I
in a makeshift coffeehouse of sorts
It was cold for spring
I wonder when he'll write his book
life's a fascinating thing.
I don't know how to play these parts
I can't say ugly words around a man of God
a man of the cloth
and I did and would and should.
My husband is the kind heart
with politeness all over him
It's like being born into a litter of puppies and
you're the one who has rolled 3 times in sawdust
not even that.
Trees sway. Life scratches at my soul
my life is like a construction site with all the
tools just left strewed around,br>
it's too cold for rope sandals, even black ones
work awaits me,
paintings, glass, colors, deals stuff like that
I sat in a bright place today
I never do that
It wasn't like I drank from new wine skins
It was kinda like being at a well and not getin
pushed in
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it rained outside the window