Don't ask me what brought this mood on. I'm not sure. It could be that I have a teenage daughter who is a junior in high school and thinks, at times, that she has the world all figured out. It could be that I've been working since 6 a.m., and there doesn't seem to be an end in sight until Thursday night. It could be the text that my sister sent me this afternoon:
Dad just told me he had a dream the other day that he and Sally were walking in heaven, "just a nice smooth walk."Saint Marty is feeling evening closing in.
Dusk
by: Gabriela Mistral
I feel my heart melting
in the mildness like candles:
my veins are slow oil
and not wine,
and I feel my life fleeing
hushed and gentle like the gazelle.
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