I am eating as much raw garlic as I can stomach, I am drinking water at the first signs of thirst.
I am making feeble attempts to maintain this vessel, for what it’s worth.
And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about all the hurt, but if the weather is any indication of things to come, we’ll be better soon.
The wind skipping leaves across the ground, the sound of water running all around.
Snow is melting off the ground, and the roofs of the houses and the cars, and the bottoms of boots.
And you’ll be here soon, two weeks to the day that spring starts then you’re back on the move.
And I want to ask you to slow down, but you can’t slow down. I want to ask you to slow down for me, but you can’t do that, we’re well past the point where you still hold my hand, and now the seasons will teach me stand on my own.
from the album Making and Losing Friends Under the Watchful Eye of God
