Some Days

Some days, the weight of rhetorical questions crushes me.

Some days, I stare at the crumpled road map which I clutch with shaking hands and wonder how the hell I got so lost.

Some days, the face in the mirror stuns me.

Some days, the ruined pages of my life fall around me like sodden leaves after the high winds of a brutal spring.

Some days, I make list after list of failures; catalog after catalog of losses; reams of scrawled explanations, entreaties, epitaphs.

Some days, my eyes burn and my mouth twitches and my joints ache and my heart sags.

It’s the seventh day of the thirty-ninth month of My Year Without Complaining.   Life continues. . . some days.

One thought on “Some Days

  1. Linda Overton

    I hope that on the days that are not those “some days”, that you will make lists of the good things you do. I know there must enough to make list. I have been on the receiving end of some of those good things so I am sure.

    Reply

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