I wasn't planning on thinking about that
Childhood memories have a way of intruding on our present life at the most inconvenient times
Hello High Flyers!
Today I’m sharing another poem in addition to the haiku. It’s seasonal—sort of.
Angels Get Smoke Breaks
From the living room window, I watched the men
huddle against the frigid Colorado January morning,
their sharp faces oddly illuminated
by the spark of a lighter and
the glowing tips of their cigarettes. They arrived
by ones and twos in rundown cars and Japanese
pickup trucks like angels sent from skid row.
Once inside our house, they moved like the Bolshoi
in a practiced precision I’ve never been able to match.
All of the men had smiles for me and my sister. Our big eyes
must have given away our secret insecurities because,
to a man, they all promised to make sure our toys
got to our new home safe and sound. I didn’t realize
until just now that probably not one of them had any idea
where we were moving to. But they cared enough
to lie to me and my sister. That’s more than most.
First, the big truck left with all of our toys, and then
all of the men left in ones and twos, retreating
to their rundown cars and Japanese pickup trucks,
heading off to another job.
Angels get smoke breaks but no rest.
Be the weird you want to see in the world!
Cheers,
Jason
And now the moon is part of cancel culture? 🙃