Wednesday December 1, 2010
I’m teaching myself to smock.
It’s not as easy as it looks.
Like so many things.
Quan Yin
I am almost home.
My stomach is fluttery, I am 16 again.
These last hours we’re spending with the rest of the family,
This house filled with light and the smell of cigar smoke and
Soapy incense. The Monk sits tying his endless knots, chanting
And the salsa plays in the background. It all works. This world
Accommodates all things.
Last night they took us to an Indian/French fusion restaurant.
In this world, it all works. If you visit Deland, Fl. Go there.
Cress.
I can hardly breath I am so anxious to be home!
Quan Yin
I am almost home.
My stomach is fluttery, I am 16 again.
These last hours we’re spending with the rest of the family,
This house filled with light and the smell of cigar smoke and
Soapy incense. The Monk sits tying his endless knots, chanting
And the salsa plays in the background. It all works. This world
Accommodates all things.
Last night they took us to an Indian/French fusion restaurant.
In this world, it all works. If you visit Deland, Fl. Go there.
Cress.
I can hardly breath I am so anxious to be home!