It’s Wednesday already, and fall is just six weeks away. Time slips by, and the future speedily becomes the past. Yet the moment always remains the moment. Snookums leaves the home for a haircut while men and dogs watch her departure from the windows. A friend writes a poem of love lost, and I pause before responding. Not all things require a response, yet I want to say I was there.
So I pour another cup of coffee, and pull a couple of cookies from the jar to go with it and return to ponder things beyond my ken while Snooks just does life. The odd couple.