GRAPES, THOUGH NOT SOUR
Well, well, where to begin these travails;
or where to end these happy trails? If this
is to be the last week of my life, I'll sadly
have no choice. I'm nervous on all counts,
yet others tell me it's all attitude alone that
counts. And, maybe so. I just don't know.
-
Ask the dead tree at the fenceline. Ask
that dead car in the weeds. How did it
all come to that point? Who knows. I
seek to live, at least. These are my many
hours. Please.
-
I go into this with a hearty feeling : I can
make through this, yes? Should that be
turned around to a last, royal try, can't say
I didn't. All my friends and I will think
of each other, however that goes.
No blues harp wailing, and
no tremolos.
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