I do not miss you more on Valentine’s Day

I do not miss you more on Valentine’s Day. In the profusion of reds and intact hearts you are no more absent than you ever were. (I do not miss you in the language of calendars and clocks – in the birthdays and the Christmas mornings and the ten-nine-eights of New Years Eve) I missContinue reading “I do not miss you more on Valentine’s Day”

Every day a little death

“What counts is not the best living but the most living.” – Camus They are not the same mistakes. Most are brand new. Each time – a different set of hopes. Each time – a different way of dashing. A mosaic of mistakes as you endure time and again like Sisyphus with his rock (though it is your heart thatContinue reading “Every day a little death”