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C L Bledsoe |
Contemplating Elevators |
Goodbye to Noise |
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Goodbye to the van, goodbye to fists in the face of the world, goodbye to the impetuousness of trying. I haven’t forgotten stairs; you never forget the tiny ache of growing pains; your bones simply creak when you try to stand or sit. Goodbye to noise. Goodbye to hard. It’s all easy, now, soft, now. There are elevat ors. There are sounds of disdain pointed at anything that stands out. Goodbye to curses. Good bye to river valleys. There are still mountains, but at the top they look flat.
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