sometimes I wonder

do you
ever
think of me
sometimes I wonder
what if
what if not
and everything in between
sometimes I wonder
that I wonder
which is wonder aplenty
sometimes I suppose
I wonder
which is just as good
sometimes I forget
to wonder about wonder
which is my loss
though wonder
still awaits
me there
fresh and fierce
patient and planted
mountain solid
and the trickling stream
the chickadee
and snow spilling off the branch

saving grace

you know, I saved a baby
what do you mean you saved a baby; from what?
it was choking
it was choking?
it was choking, a newborn
where?
I don't know where
what do you mean you don't know where, what?
even if I knew I wouldn't tell you
stop playing games
what games? 
so, tell me
tell you what?
what happened
I was working at 911, the mother called
and...
and I walked her through it, what to do
like what?
turn the baby over, pound the back
pound?
well, not exactly pound
so it worked?
it did
it did?
yes, thank God
or thanks to you
both
both?
both me and God
the three of you?
yeah, okay, then, sure, me, Mom, and God
the baby, too
true, why not, throw the baby in there, too
saving grace
if you say so
I do
fair enough
was that her name?
hunh?
Grace
I don't know, I never found out
good story
it's not a story
but it is
if you say so

free milk

Traffic building on Hiawatha. Cars pooling out of Destiny. Streaming on to Solar. Dairy farmers are giving away 7,700 gallons of milk. Giving away, as in FREE MILK! 2p to 6p. 2-gal limit. A frenzy is fermenting. Gotta have it. After all, it's FREE. Watching the parade of vehicles, I am moved, touched, by this communal gesture. It's a feel-good story. I push to the side any thoughts such as: fancy car, you need milk? take your time, don't cut in; do you even ever drink milk?! Let's not cry over spilt milk. It's an uncommon act of generosity, beyond the economic drivers it entails. And who am I to decipher who needs or wants milk or doesn't? What's it to me? I salute this liquid courage, this solid charity.

I myself don't need any milk right now. I thread the needle through the intersection and continue my drive out to North Syracuse for a cheesesteak with Utica greens. To go.

What is it about free shit, anyway? I mean shit literally. Not "literally" the way people mean "figuratively." If it's free, folks can't pass it up. It's FREE1 Free shit? Shit, I'll use it for fertilizer. I mean, it's free! Can't pass up free shit.