I can't sleep…
Love, these lines
accompany our want, nameless
or otherwise, and our waiting.
And since we’ve not learned
how not to want,
we’ve had to learn,
by waiting, how to wait.
—Li-Young Lee, from “The Waiting” in The City In Which I Love You
Notes: Poem: Thank you Beth @ Alive on All Channels. Gif: Newthom
To pass from the inner light to the light of the sun was not the work of the senses. A click sufficed, a slight change in point of view, like turning one’s head a hundredth part of the circle. It was enough in the end to believe. The rest came by itself.
Notes:
5:40 am train.
Metro North south to Grand Central.
Need to buy a ticket.
I look down the long platform. Four minutes to scheduled arrival. Gotta go.
He’s 25 yards up.
His right foot is lame. His gait is slow. Handicapped.
I close in on him.
He’s in his late teens.
Baseball cap.
Backpack slung over his right shoulder.
He stops and turns to stare at the billboard.
His chest is rising up and down – giggling.
It’s an ad for a Broadway play based on the 2003 best selling novel “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.”
I remember the book. And smile.
I take one last look as I pass him. His head leans on his right shoulder as he takes in the poster, playing back chapter by chapter.
I buy my ticket. The train approaches and I look for him. He’s the last to get on, the conductor urges him in. Continue reading “Riding Metro North. With Curious Dog.”
