Saxophone plays in the house.
My head on folding chair back I feel high eyes closed in the sun, and happy for birth of spring. I'm working on a book, worrying about gray hairs, listening to cool new music, breaking up a relationship of too long. Sutra of the Next Moment Sutra is like suture a thread tying things together like one moment to the next. I came inside when it started to rain, and continued. Dark rumblings of humid clouds, birds diving under branches, me peeking out of window, comfortable book in hand, heart both light and heavy because one moment follows the next happiness sadness happiness sadness happiness it never doesn't happen that way.