Letter to Myself

Let’s not think on sad things.  I think the world is sad, therefore I am.  The smile of a child.  Remember making mud pies – cool soil under pink fingernails?  When dirt was dirt?  And not a symbol for the grime of regret?  When you feel like scowling, then scowl.  All the more inviting your next smile will be.  Contrasts cannot be ignored – that’s what either/or neither/nor are for.  Think of sad things – but don’t dwell.  There are enough caves of tears dripping with loneliness.  Caves are hidden things.  Climb a tree.  Trees hold you even when you grow heavy, and they keep on growing despite.  Trees are strong things.  Even when they’ve lost all their leaves.

Regarding Me.

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