It’s raining. Hard. What is worse, though, the soles
Of my shoes (which I love) have significant holes.
They let in the water; my socks are all wet,
And my feet are as icky as modern feet get.
My bike has a flat, and my spouse has the car,
And I’d rather not walk, but, y’know… here we are.
I know when I’m bested; I know when I’m beat
So I’ll tug on my boots (which are hell on my feet;
They keep my toes dry, but they cause me great pain)
And away I will walk, through the hard-driving rain.
But a glance at the news, and my first thought is “Damn,
I should always remember… how lucky I am.”
100% true. My shoes have holes, my bike has a flat, it is raining cats and dogs, and I am the most fortunate cuttlefish on the planet.
Remember, you could be like these guys: “This damn tree leaks.”
Ya know, a few months ago I was floating lazily in somebody else’s little pool, watching the finches in the silver maple, being mildly annoyed at the leaves that kept blowing into the pool because I’d have to scoop them out, and thought, “Hey, it’s a beautiful day and we’re not getting strafed.”
Yeah, perspective. Thanks.