Farewell
If I die,
leave the balcony open.
The little boy is eating oranges.
(From my balcony I can see him.)
The reaper is harvesting the wheat.
(From my balcony I can hear him.)
If I die,
leave the balcony open!
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Cranky, YES!
Not even my best friend will be able to claim that patience is one my strengths. I tend to get particularly impatient when I can see the end, but will still need to slog some more to reach that end in the way I would like to. So, dear readers, I don't have anything smart or thought-provoking stuff to share with you. I am tired and cranky and the things aren't moving as quickly as I would like them to. Instead, a poem by one of my favorite poets of the moment. Federico Garcia Lorca.
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