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Here We Go Then


by Darryl Price


"Wake up and ache for your life."--Natalie Diaz


The wind isn't always a friend, but, you 
know, it can be, on a nice day. It doesn't 
play favorites is all I'm saying. 
Still, I do enjoy its impossible 
fun company anyway. Most of the 
time. You see the dusty trail is always 
begging for you to go just one more step 
in that direction, just to see what you 
can find; hey, what's over in that particular 
direction's way, I wonder? It's 
the loneliest flat surface in the sun, 
if you ask me, even if it is visited 
from time to time by certain walk 
about birds and crawling along insects. 
Ants don't stop to talk. That's a given. But 
a nice plump dog paw is always welcomed 
company I'd imagine. That's all I'm 
saying about the animals. Flowers, 

however, always seem to have the best 
view of any natural parade. They 
can dance up a storm in the rain and stand 
stock still without laughing in the hottest 
sun for hours, And, yes, I guess butterfly 
feet do tickle on the soft landings. Looking 
for that frisbee that hit the tree and 
ping-ponged into the bushes by the grumpy 
tall grasses. I know it sees me somehow. 
I know it hears me pulling bunches 
of overgrown leaves out of the way. Inanimate 
objects are very much alive. 
It waits like a  hungry, but tired passenger 
at the same bus stop every day. 
I do like its blue translucent color 
though. Very nice. A good contrast to the 
enormous sky, which is now some kind of 
baby blanket blue, I suppose you could 

call it. Oh, there goes a well-dressed butterfly, 
if I've ever seen one. Seems like a 
nice fellow, but always in such a sticky 
hurry. And last but not least, our friends, 
the multitudinous clouds, pretending 
to be napping, tucked away up in a 
tight, bright corner like some kind of lost stuffing 
from a child's toy, but they're tricky. If 
you happen to look away for even 
a very small moment, the next time you 
see them they will be half way down the path 
like a floating fleet of bales of dried hay.
Here we go then. Playtime's over. Put your 
daydreams away. Don't delay. Life is pushing 
you back into the river. Let go.
The river knows which way it's going. You'll
catch on to something sooner or later. 

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