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Minor Rebellion; 10.6.10

 

I want to be a rebellious old lady.
I mean, not right now, obviously, I’m just getting started in life!

Today on my way to work, a skinny old lady with a shock of gray hair crossed the street on a red light in front of me. All her little old lady friends stood on the corner, compliantly waiting for the light to turn green and allow them to cross the street in safety and relative anonymity. Not this chick. Hands in her pockets, posture slumped slightly BACKWARDS, not like a hunched up old lady; like a former cool cat, strutting across the street with a sort of nonchalant “hey, whassup?” kind of attitude. Only she scurried across the street, because she didn’t really want to get hit by oncoming traffic; she just wanted to be a touch defiant, and live on the fast lane for a minute or two. She wanted the rush of adrenaline that comes with minor rebellions and innocent civil disobedience. She wanted to embrace her youth and strength and power and live in the moment – in the powerful, exhilarating, precious moment that is today. That is NOW.

She ran across the street with a smile on her face and a glance back at her timid friends, and crossed over into a world of possibility.

And I want to be just like her.

another cup

 

saturday morning finds me

sitting in my doorway

listening to the pitter pat

of the falling rain,

and soaking up the cool

wind blowing on my face

and skin.

the sky is blanketed

in a quilt of clouds,

all different shades of

gray and silver.

and my bare feet long to

take me to the soft wet

grass

and through the cold

dirty gutters

of my youth.

but my city feet are

too tender now

and i turn back inside

for another cup

of coffee

and a blanket that

i hope will

cover up my sadness.