Tomorrow

It’s tomorrow and the sun is shining the same way.

I’ve got to shower, dress, and attack that mess on my head to make it something less this and more that

And remember not to forget

Got a long winding list of things that need me or had me and need me again because something was left.

Even though I feel the shove and release of the waves of maybes, might be and should be I’m standing there.

Is it brighter? They said it is.

I don’t have time to linger staring out half blind to make myself blinder.

Got a pocket full of memories and dreams that spill out every time I bend over

Wondering if the years will slow their pace so I have time to reach someplace before its my turn to leave the circle.

Whirly girl spinning round till my head grows to three times its normal size and I have to sit with myself and remember insignificance.

Tomorrow. It always comes.

Today turns her apron around to the other side so it all looks clean and new, cause someone might see.

Or maybe guess, but they don’t really know about the mess.

I lost my hopes.

I watched the parties, years of growing and changing then closed my eyes for just a minute and they were gone, and I’d forgotten where I put them.

Hope! Damn, I just had it. Have you seen it?

It looks a little like my dreams, but it smells sweeter like the first soft wind of springtime or the crease of a newborn’s neck.

Shining brighter than the sunrise, but when I pick it up by the handle it’s just and old bucket with a dried-up wad of gum plugging the leaky bottom.

Smelling like death and disappointment and waiting for me to fill it up so it can spill it all out in a slow trickle of why, how, and did not.

Come here tomorrow.

I might have an idea of what’s coming next and why it matters because there’s one thing I have learned in looking and listening in.

Life is comedy. An absurd mishmash of belly laughs and what the f*ck.

Today might not be the day but tomorrow, when it comes it might be. So, it’s best to be here right?

Looking up at the sun.

But not too long, or you’ll burn your retinas.

Too much of a good thing.

Excuse me while I keep looking. I know I have it somewhere.

I’ll probably remember what I did with it.

Tomorrow.