I had a cheesy macaroni soup for dinner. One of my favorite Lenten Friday repasts. Then, I spent the next few hours writing a cover letter and resume for one of my best friends. It was actually quite fun--the challenge of creating a persuasive letter. That goes back to my days as an instructor of technical writing. In the midst of all this, I gave my son a bath and ate some really good chocolate. As I said, small pleasures.
I think that my time in my son's classroom this morning sort of helped me reevaluate my life a little bit today. I was surrounded by these kids who were absolutely ecstatic over the fact that they had new pencil erasers and pencils.
Saint Marty bought a new pencil case tonight. That made him very happy.
And this makes Quincy Troupe happy...
by: Quincy Troupe
my young son, porter, watching snowflakes
whoops, in ecstasy, as they collect, like lint
on the font windshield of my car, his growing
hands try to snag them through the tinted glass
as they hit & melt, like dead faces time erases
in a flash, though he misses & leaves only his
handprints on the tinted glass, there, his sudden
simple joy of discovering, suddenly, switching
like the attention span of television
his eyes now locked onto spinning, car wheels
churning in surprise, his imagination scotchtaping
itself to everything, tripping over everything, turning
snowflakes into flowers, brown brushstrokes stroking
the windshield become the tail of our cat, tchikaya
window bars, baseball bats in the eyes of his dazzling
invention, wonder residing there, like magic
everyday the curtain going up on his transforming
pure eyes that see metaphors everywhere
& it gives me sweet joy in this age of cynicism
to watch & be with him, tripping through discovery--
his simple joys the envy of my caged wisdom
|Ice cream . . . another small pleasure|