Sitting here in my office. It's raining outside. Just a soft slow drizzle, mist with a mission, soaking everything slowly.
I don't need to water the tomatoes tonight.
I am somewhat afraid of my own power these days.
It seems that if I want something, it is granted. I blink and look at it with wondering eyes. Is this my life?
And it's almost fall and I discover that I'm suddenly happy. Joyful. I still get tired and I still get cold and I still sometimes miss the bus, but I'm suddenly an adult and suddenly things are a whole lot easier.
Is this how adulthood comes to everyone? You look up one day and discover that you own a house and a car and a computer and you've learned how to sysadmin and you have a nifty job and an office with a window?
Or is it just me?
Whatever it is, I find myself accepting it wholeheartedly.
It's been a busy couple of weeks and I find myself with little or no motivation to write right now.
But there is one thing--
diurnal
the light this morning is shaving-thin
and smells of the outgoing tide:
fish, diesel, all those things water forgives
when high but reveals when it bulges
on the opposite side of the world.and sounds:
ringing bell. crash of metal
a boxcar swinging into place on a ship.
spare some change, ma'am?
the click of commerce, the cries
of the hawkers with newspapers.my morning before the blur of coffee
and computers, is redolent of harbor
a whiff of a hundred years ago.
it never changes, it just fades.
and these are the streets I thump
with my black boots, my blue jeans,
my place in this world.8.29.00
