full of promise --
my father knew
they hold secrets
when he left them
next to a box
of carving tools.
When my mind turns to "could-a-beens," I know it's time for re-tooling because the wishy-washy pile's only going to get higher if I don't switch into four-wheel drive. When I find myself admiring someone else's wall of famous faces, I realize it's the same thing. Show me instead your album of future memories.
"So you think I should take down my wall?" says Virginia.
"What wall?" I say. "Shall we look?"
"Go ahead." She points to a cardboard box, taped like a mummy.
"Maybe some other time," I say.
The Bowman Women; A Work In Progress
1 week ago