Pieces

Pieces I gather things I thought were important, that don't seem quite that way anymore. There are pictures of the past, and lists of goals for the future on the table and in the drawer. But I find, I don't want to look at any of them, any longer. Some bring too much pain, and there is no gain. Others bother me like brothers, that tease, and never please. I hang onto the moment, and speak to strangers about fluff, and stuff... that does not matter. My heart is empty and full. How can that happen? How can that be, at the same time? Choices people make, and bridges burned in big fires that still show embers among the coals and in the dark holes, of people's lives... years later. None of which ever will earn anything but empty baskets without bread, or fish. So... it is a wish... nay a prayer for better days, when there were still five corners in the brand-new puzzle box, and yet enough faith to put the picture together... up until the end. I will send you the last page of a book, torn out for reasons I can not say, perhaps however to pay, some debt, that has no value at all? I will do that... if I can find a place, to send it to. I think of you.