Focusing
Last night while washing dishes I noticed a glass.
I notice how the soap slid down slowly to the brim and then fade into the waterfall hitting metallic gray. I noticed how clear the glass appeared. I held it up into a soft beam of sunlight and used my fingernail to scrape the last particle away. Clear it was clear.
I felt the urge to grab my camera, which I did, lost in the back of the closet. I didn’t have film (I can’t remember a time when I did not have film). I focused on the glass any way and enjoy the thought of trying to be more like me.
Sometimes I do not know who or what that is. Sad, I guess, for 28 years, but maybe as the nagging knowledge of things falling apart in the back of my mind, I hold on to the hope that at least this time I will be clear.
