Somehow it seems wrong to title any of my reflections. Someone may be predisposed to not take from them what they need to read. Take what you need. Release what you don't. May your life be filled with more than fifteen binders. May you not save those binders, but instead, fill your own, and then... give them away.
I have fifteen zippered binders
I have fifteen zippered binders
Of reflections,
Each in its own
Plastic page.
Then there’s the blog,
Some of which are in
The binders.
Most are not.
I tell my daughter
She may decide what to do
With anything I leave behind,
Even the reflections.
They’re all on the blog
She says.
Oh no they’re not,
I say.
What do we leave behind us?
What do we leave?
Everything encased.
Everything left.
Fifteen binders
Filled with life.
Everything does not fit
On a blog.
I know that.
I know.
Everyone has way more
Than fifteen binders
Full of life.
There is no vault
To save it all.
