I was born as Wednesday’s child of woe and I thrive in
lamenting daily losses , both mine and yours. The little big things, the
invisiblia and obscure paraphernalia of the everyday normal. Think of this as
your daily wrap-up of today’s tragedies that went by without notice or pause.
The involuntary shoulder shakes of the woman with sandy hair thrown messily
into a bun 20 years too young for her. The endless sparkle of city lights from
the window of a building I will only be allowed to enter once. The cracks in
the pavement leading to the bus stop, unnoticed by the city, just like the rest
of the neighborhood. The unexpected kind words of a strange man I encounter at
the train station — I cannot lie, my first instinct was (and always is) fear.
The gentle cajoling smile on the face of the young man selling his poetry
downtown. The homeless father-daughter duo, offering blessings to disappointed
downtowners.
