AUA

Morning arrives with strange dreams and stranger realities, you begin to work them into your muscles and wonder at how strange this life you have been given. One day when I was 14 I rode a horse straight into the jungle and saw the world spread out around me from a mountain top; I knew then, too, that our days are gifts whether we take them or not. I unwrap them one by one, sometimes gently, sometimes with wanton disregard, they scatter behind me in drifts and trunks and paths of years, how each one has lead me to the one I open today.

I pack my bags, prepare for arrivals and returns, for cold November air but warm November promises, my skin is brown out of season, my heart light out of turn, one day I wrote a line so sweet I thought someone else must have written it; one day I opened a gift and I dared to believe it was
for me.