Thought of the Week:
"I will never stop thanking you, for this place I call my home."
Friday, June 29, 2018
Friday, June 22, 2018
Today I am Writing: On Another Somebody's Baby
The name comes through my email, a name that rolls off my tongue
so that my tears can catch it;
another somebody's baby died today.
Another somebody's baby rings through my mind
while the angry beethoven trio plays,
my record player set to bring what I thought
might be peace for the day;
it's as if the record knew what the day really held,
before I knew his name.
I remember then the luxury of 'I forgot';
there's another somebody's baby in somebody's arms,
in somebody's fears prayers tears,
today and every day.
The record shows us, that.
I can hold his name here, in his death
but did I hold it in his life?
His and every other some body's name,
the entry point of another somebody's baby.
so that my tears can catch it;
another somebody's baby died today.
Another somebody's baby rings through my mind
while the angry beethoven trio plays,
my record player set to bring what I thought
might be peace for the day;
it's as if the record knew what the day really held,
before I knew his name.
I remember then the luxury of 'I forgot';
there's another somebody's baby in somebody's arms,
in somebody's fears prayers tears,
today and every day.
The record shows us, that.
I can hold his name here, in his death
but did I hold it in his life?
His and every other some body's name,
the entry point of another somebody's baby.
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