A Million Divided Attentions

I was a fool to think it would come today,
the thing that sometimes does come
and lift me up into relevance, a sense of
purpose other than scrounging Easter candy
and walking my headache from one room
to another. On days when it is damp and cold,
it’s hard to rub those sticks together, spark
anything. A million divided attentions
subdivide my attention today. What will I
show, when it’s time to open our hands,
count the grains, seeds, coins, and sands?

 

 

Prompt from Poetic Asides and Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (both suggested fools or foolishness).

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20 thoughts on “A Million Divided Attentions

  1. Kerry O'Connor says:

    The voice is very authentic, and one I am sure many readers could relate to. I especially admire the way you have expressed the idea of walking a headache from room to room.

  2. On days when it is damp and cold,
    it’s hard to rub those sticks together, spark
    anything.

    However true that may be I am certain the spark always comes alive within you πŸ™‚
    Beautifully executed.

    Lots of love,
    Sanaa

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