oh jezuz gawd I threw out my words this morning, came home from the coffee shop with the exterior of the Life and Arts section without my completed Shefer Crossword, just the husk of the thing with the "Love me, legal tender" article on the front with its great graphic, knowing what we know about Benjamin Franklin.
Last night my friend said she is practicing compassionate something. Distance? Dispassion? Disinterest? Disappointment? Detachment. I know it's detachment because I wrote it down.
The last couple of days I've had the sentence, "everybody is fragile but me" playing in my head, and I have a strong negative response to that, so this is not about what I think or want, but brought up by the coming/looming/dreaded helping the parents get their act together, which is to say helping them make their transition from their enormous five bedroom house to a smaller place, probably the retirement community with the care continuoum, which may be spelled that way. But, you are wondering about today's poem.
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