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“Today and tomorrow is all we have.
Yesterday, no matter what some will say
is gone,” I write, but as soon as I do
the wall I’m leaning on says, “I will still
be here when you’ve gone. Yesterdays grow out
of me and break and crack my clay with their
own desires that have nothing to do with
mine day after day.” The bird-filled air drowns
out the wall but not for long because a
basketball bounces. Boing! Boing! And the bird
vanishes into the laughter of men
all the words they know accompanying
them as they run and shout throwing the ball.
It is time to say goodbye to you all.
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