April 14
Who to Ask
“You ask good questions and you ask the right people,” said
my sponsor.
“I ask questions because I need answers,” my reply.
“Do you know how many people need answers and never ask?”
she quipped.
“I ask my friends, no stroke of genius there,” I continue.
“You ask your playmates, you ask the people you trust enough
to have fun with. You don’t realize how
clever that is. You know lots of folks
who work hard and you could ask your questions of these, but instead you save
them for those diligent ones who still know how to play and that, Sweetie Pie
is proof that you are no dummy.”
You may mute your horn, but don’t soap your bow
*
CRUMPLED PETALS IN MY
POCKET
I can't bring back
the bloom
Cohesion, lost
ripeness
Is left only to
memory
I carry home the
parts
Folded, petite,
fragrant bedding
For my wistful
desires
I put these colored
remnants into a jar of salt
I make an aromatic
rub
For the sweetest
wounds
Transforming the
parts to useful duty
Doesn't restore the
flower
It doesn't pay
tribute to the past, it is survival
I have a mind filled
with roses but I must make hay
Today I live, today
the rose is dead
Its pieces in my
pocket
I don't die with the
blossom
Though my head blows
in the wind
The rose runs its
course, I run mine.
You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way
to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
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