November 29, 2016

weapons

I have been reading the posts of the 5:00 a.m. running club,
though I have not, myself, risen from sleep to make the start time.
Elsewhere, letters are being sent, phone calls made, petitions
signed and delivered, and I find myself empty of the vigor and volume
I think I'd need to join the fray. Last week, I spent several hours raiding
my mother's closet, so immersed in the racks I almost forgot to eat breakfast.
Yesterday, I stood at the corner of Forest & Chestnut tilting my face
toward a early winter sun, wondering what name I would give this particular
yellow. It's not that I don't have the heart for battle. I'm just still deciding
on my weapons.