tonywalt
06-17-2025, 03:08 PM
I will seize the day into
a shape I step into.
It opens, repeats,
refuses explanation.
I fill it with errands,
and coffee,
and silence,
waiting for it to pass
or mean something.
It’s where joy is supposed to happen—
if it happens.
And where else would it?
Ask too hard,
and here they come—
the ones with credentials and networks,
grave faces,
buzzing phone in hand,
rushing across the lawn
to tell you not to ask again.
a shape I step into.
It opens, repeats,
refuses explanation.
I fill it with errands,
and coffee,
and silence,
waiting for it to pass
or mean something.
It’s where joy is supposed to happen—
if it happens.
And where else would it?
Ask too hard,
and here they come—
the ones with credentials and networks,
grave faces,
buzzing phone in hand,
rushing across the lawn
to tell you not to ask again.