You don't know how many times you balanced the weight. You don't know how many times what seemed so simple changed everything. You don't know how many times you saved the moment, if only for that time. You don't get to know. And you don't get to know what made it different the next time.

The streets are open & isolated in simultaneous irony if that even means anything. Every face has another one underneath and it has naught to do with deception just that simple human endeavour of in vs out, out vs in. Mean season and the paper thinness it brings to all the things that were just so heavy not so long ago. All so paper thin. It's like that thing you ordered from the catalogue and when it arrives it's nothing like it appeared to be. Seeing clearly as I was like the sun drawing its specific lines around all the shapes and colors as it descended on the Commons. Something fell off today. Some bag of meat and bones got left behind in the dehydrating dog shit I was sitting next to. Something fell off and I'm not saying it was a good thing or a bad thing. It was just an event that I breathed through. Another event in the life of a human. Thoughtless, weightless, gauzy, rice paper thin. And you pass those little haloed crow tags everywhere and you look back up in front you to where it's just all so paper thin . "Life is simple", my walking friend said, "we complicate it ourselves..." and I heard her convincing herself as much as convincing anyone else. These are the conversations that are easy. The sun setting over Halifax, the dogs fetching their balls on the Commons, the games of croquet and soccer providing the backdrop for living and breathing, the reflecting and the deciding that the challenges might be worth the simple moments that come in between.
These are the conversations that are easy. Where the friend takes the heaviness and puts something on the other side of the scale, something lighter, airier.
The streets are open and isolated in simultaneous irony. How heavy will that heaviness dip and how light will lightness carry spread wings on the air for how long?
I want to look behind the faces to see the calculations. How heavy is your heavy? How light is your light and is that balance anywhere close to getting through the silent conversations. The ones where decisions are made and no one gets the chance to put something on the other side of the scale.

A farewell. Beauty, if anything, endures. Yours was a sweet song...