I woke this morning with a sense of renewal. Too long, this covid winter; too many things unstarted, and unfinished. Technically, Spring starts a few weeks from now, but something in me says this is the day to slough off the old skin. Maybe I’ll shave the scruff off my face, pick up some new clothes, get rid of the clutter that surrounds me, physically, mentally, spiritually.
Or maybe it’s that I need to organize my papers and receipts for of Tax Day.
It could be the melting of the snow. The promise of defeating this awful pandemic. The potential for justice, peace, love, harmony, blah blah blah another one wrote and hoped.
For this Rope Walker, it’s may be just another day: screw on my peg leg, grab my balancing pole, heave the stove onto my back, and walk a half-inch rope two stories above Beaton Street.
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