vervain______

backpaddling. the new story, one constructed out of ease, grounded, with only a small chance of flight. a life is short. i will be reborn. but what, next time? this is no excuse to waste the present life, it is only a strong feeling, as i have been many people in the past and this present formation is more substantial, easier to see and understand. we have united as friends. our hands are together, his over mine. there is a love exchange, only there are no flowers involved, either real or imagined. it is convienant. it is smart.
or is it?
the small birds of my mind always rustle their feathers to destract me, help me question the present state of things. my father stayed with my mother for 29 years. it is easy to sacrifice, i have had good teachers. he loves his father, so do i but it is a watered down version of love, no bells or whistles to say the least. he fell from the great hieght in which i placed him, now he is merely human and even barely shows up in my writing. he does the laundry. i feed the child, dress him. he changes diapers, takes the trash out. i usually remember to thank him. so, what now? life. making dinners, feeding the child, doing the dishes. there is something of beauty in the dullness. only those that are older or/ and have suffered understand this.