Monthly Archives: June 2019

When I opened it, the pages

flaking.

It made me sad. Who would destroy something

so magnificent?

His story full of holes, unreadable,

but beautiful.

I saw myself–clearly, so clearly–as

an old woman, sitting

in a chair. In

the sunshine. My hair white. My face

to the sun. I was tired,

exhausted really, of life, in that way

one has after a tremendous effort. Over

and done. Energy spent. No regrets.

The good and

the bad. The joy and

the sorrow. I was smiling.

“You are such a joyful spirit,” a stranger recently stopped me to say.

“Truly, a joyful spirit.” How is that so

when I heft the singularity of

a black hole in my core?

A beloved friend, true and seldom seen, told me

I shine. Of all the compliments paid, the insults made, that

has stuck with me the most. The beach, friends that would become

sisters, words and words and so many words.

“You shine, honey! You shine!” spoken at that exclamation point in

my life, the week of weeks when I broke free of

everything that ever held me back. When I became

the me I’ve always been, have always wanted to be.

I shine.

I’m a joyful spirit who carries inside

a black hole of more sorrows than the obvious ones. Sorrows

that will never dim my light.

I was an old woman, looking back. The

only way to look when one is old. Always

past. Looking forward to the fading years is

the same as it has always been.

Exciting.

Frightening.

The way is shadow and light. Back

I looked, the sun in my face, on my

hair still touched with long-ago pink

abandoned to the white.