caught these blues between my ribs


Now about a week ago, I stumbled across a friend's month-old blue ramblings. The loneliness was eloquent, the soundtrack all too apt for storms then gathering about me. Is it possible to catch another's blues, I wonder? I held his pain inside me for a day, my heart so heavy I had to pray three miles and some tears before peace came. Now the turn is mine to hear and ache and weep and write. I'm just less tipsy. Beck is well-suited to these moods.

It's probably ironic I'm so low; my face is tucked within a cover gracing news stands 'round the country. But love is still elusive — too, stability and income. My purpose is a question mark, the sort made by sky-writers who must write, re-write and write again in circles as they battle smoke's resistance to the permanent.

"Maybe I'm a lost cause ..."

How we all etch blues with beauty; must be hope's insistent prodding through the tears.

posted @ 06:54 PM on Mon - June 27, 2005 remark! Email |  as quoted:
before I said ...  but more recently: 

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