A Conversation

A poet is someone who stands outside in the rain hoping to be struck by lightning.

James Dickey

I suppose everyone knows the days upon which silence interrupts speech and softly manipulates the soul into unburdening its deepest fears. Upon such an acerbic May day I rode beside my brother in his car, passively watching the clouds and silence debate whether they would rain.

“John, ” I said quietly, “I’ve been worried about something.”

He mumbled, which I interpreted to be encouragement to continue.

“I am terribly afraid that one day I will have a child exactly like myself.”

His solution was simple.

“Stop being you.”

“Who should I be?”

“Be me.”

The clouds had won, and droplets danced playfully on and about our car. I thanked my brother quietly, and  turned to watch their pattern disturb my reflection in the glass.



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2 responses to “A Conversation

  1. big brother

    unbelievably awesome

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