on scale

my wealthier young friends flood the feed with photos of their travels. india, italy, thailand, and so on.

I remain here, near and dear, brown-skinned growing ever browner.

no encounters with ancient and obscure religion or authentic gelato mark my days. instead, I am enraptured  by my daily trysts under the boughs of pine, oak and redbud trees, where my grimy, dewey neck is lovingly kissed by the wayward breeze.

this is a summer of small things, cupped with both hands against my heart, against my eyes. little things seem much bigger when viewed closely and felt completely. you know, there is so much to be found in moments.

on the anxieties of youth

aging folks dread the signs of time that leave their faces weathered and bodies diminished. but maybe it's worse for the young. those of us in our 20's, our 30's understand ourselves to be very young, or young, or still young.

I know I fear my errant teeth--the dreadful functioning of memory in my jaw which draw my teeth away from where I'd best like for them to sit. likewise, I fear my wisdom teeth which have stopped in uninvited and which require time and money to remove. it doesn't help that they are uncomfortable, sometimes painful, and that--in concert with the aforementioned forces--can wreak havoc upon a smile. my smile, for instance.

such affects are startling. because I am young, you know. this sort of thing should not happen to me. it should take years. surely the fifty year old could handle this better than I can right now, at twenty.

I suppose each of us, regardless of age, is a bit like a population of sand castle builders who scramble in the ebb to build structures sound enough to stand against the flow. good luck, tiny architects, tiny carpenters, roofers, masons.